Prosiectau

Gwyl Lenyddiaeth Gartholwg

Michael

Ar y cyd â’r Academi, cynhaliodd Canolfan Ddysgu Gydol Oes Gartholwg ei gŵyl lenyddiaeth plant gyntaf o 21 Medi hyd 9 Hydref 2009.

Daeth deg o ysgolion Cymraeg a Saesneg eu cyfrwng i theatr Gartholwg i glywed Michael Harvey yn adrodd straeon amlddiwylliannol traddodiadol ar y thema taith. Yna aeth Michael i ymweld â phob ysgol yn unigol i weithio gyda’r plant a chreu nifer o gerddi Cymraeg a Saesneg wedi’u hysbrydoli gan y chwedlau traddodiadol.

Bu dros fil o blant yn rhan o’r prosiect ac mae ysgolion yn cael eu hannog i gyflwyno gwaith y plant ar gyfer cystadleuaeth ysgrifennu. Gallai’r enillwyr ffurfio sgwad `sgwennu newydd yn Rhondda Cynon Taf.

Llanilltud Faerdre Primary School

 

We are ghostly dust

We slice your voice box

Like the quick twist of a chicken’s neck

In the crooked hands of the hunter’s wife

We are the flying ancient ones

We will churn your stomach

Like the opaque black lake

Reflecting the setting sun

We are your darkest dreams

We will pierce your heart

Like the sunlight creeping to a window

And shimmering on the cracked mirror.

Maesybryn

Journey to the Crystal Fountain

Act out your dream

Slowly in the forest

You want to turn around

Your legs and feet are dissolving

It makes you shiver

You are in the story next to them

You do what they do

But they don’t know

Feel the Weight

Their feet are tied

Their legs and feet dissolve

They’re legs can’t move

They’re stuck in a dream

They want to run away but can’t

Disorientated

You’re being pulled gently

And you feel light headed

The tingle of lumpy stuff flying around you

Pins and needles in your belly

You’re being pulled gently

Ants nibbling at your feet

Your legs and feet dissolve

You feel light headed and turn to dust

Gwauncelyn

When I was on the eagle

I saw

Sparkling water swishing around

Dolphins vaulting through the waves

Water smiling against the rocks

I felt

Soft feathers blowing against the palms of my hands

The eagle’s muscles tightening as he flew through the wind

My eyes watering as he flew

And my face crumbling in the hard wind

Below, the gold shimmers on the palace domes

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