written september 2006

published on memorial page for 15+ years read aloud by voice actor Russ Roberts ©

Ode to Liltybill o’ the Boards by peter cole

to be read aloud

sorting through my poetry and language books today

my hand chanced on milkwood

nestled between edward thomas and stevie smith

memories of a longago walterdale rehearsal

came rushing like a welsh dickery do

south wales mind you carmarthen where winnie was born

and bill setting up to do the impossible the improbable

which for him was comme d’habitude

staging it in what 11 days 14 or was it 27

all from scratch never mind the numbers

it was a master piece of a master piece

of a master worder wunderthesp everover reacher

oh peace be unto thee thine and thee again

rhymesmaker liltybill o’ the boards

heelclicking sweet william go lao borre dah

I saw you dance once singing the stars down with your heels

and like helen the fair juliet the starryeyed ariel the transfixed

asters did bend to hear your storying

lend ear to your rhymes

I can see now here still your thousand [and one] faces

hear ten thousand voices in a quarter of a glance

a half a g/listen oh and that laugh caparisoned

at the gates of your welsh smile ach a vie

ma mochen dee winifred edwards used to say

to the naughty boys of which you were [n]ever one

noyes yesno o gandalf o llandilo o merlin o my

ah yes ’twas of thee the words were writ ever large

thunder and lightning boatswain!

prospero whispers hear a little further but

let your indulgence set me free

and you are free always were

and as they say aye and they do say it

you’ve got to watch that one billyboyo

or he’ll steal your heart with his magickal reminiscences

hang it on a line until you come back again

so that the winds keep it fresh with their breath

oh and be sure you will come back

but be sure each time that you do leave

as you trudge back from the shady glens of north wales

you remember to take a last glance back

at the magister oh wolf of the step/pen stage mage

my liege don’t be afeared to look back

O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!

was this the face the voice the wit

that launched sputnicked sent in to orbit

the spirit of humankind /ness

he never asked anything from you up there upstage left

just everything I still remember his head sticking out of that beckett box

a head is not just a head yet it is just that and

a play is not just a play a role a universe and so much more than a role

though a role it be too and be quick about it or at least timely

be sure that you make good while you’re at it your ap/p/l/auses silences and beats

they are the true linesthrough with between of by wherewhitherwhence among

I am hearing you mr meilen master of the light

yet ever on the edge of darkness where the shadows are long

oh bill how can one speak of you

in any tense but the present

in any mood but the imperative mayhaps the subjunctive

how can one remember you

in anything but superlatives oh what a man is this

whose face is tectonic resonance geo graphy

the writer the written everone welsh geboren spirit knows

the hills are alive so too the brooks and fens and barren lands and streets and gutters

look that cloud do you see his head tilt back and again

and see how the sunshine dances like his eyes in the shaded pool

the autumn wheat or is it barley blarney rustling whistling parsing farcing

such a jig it is too such a welsh wildness whose roots reach deep deep wide afar

trickster prince you wanted me to dance with your headdress

but it was not as it should be it was your feathers

and the protocols said only when the eagle screams inside

and its light blasts out of your eyes only then is it the time to thus step one’s steps

listen when the trees bark and sough when they tango and roar

oh what a scent that rose or is it a sweet william ah yes

some rosemary for remembrance of times square root cellar

surely with evergreens mixed in pine spruce fir cedar

sweet smell of stanley park delaney’s on denman

but still remembering emily murphy park the soft green smells of aspen

friends near and far yet never so far when they’re in your own heart

there there and there is meilen and yet another time

a will oh the wisp thisp thespian dancing billy

he did kick up his yonder digits phalanges and calcaneus from scotland to wales

ireland and the wee isles without so much as an english step between

ah and the sound of 1000 shires counties dells and moors the more

so merry in that restless yet relaxed too voice voices galore by gawr

how green were the imitators rich little was never so big

I can see you bill in your office paraphernaliaed yet control present everywhichwhence

forth comes this fury of a whirling pocket of air this writhing cone of perturbation

in coronation street and out of the storm walks william meilen o f t u order of the

universe

you live in each of us cymry oh but none of us can help it a gift we shall always have

precious memories of futuretimes pastspaces presentiments of bill o’ the wisp

until we dance with you again listen with our other ears elsewise otherworldly

leaning

can you hear his voice in the wind soft as april leaves before a rain

anon sweet prince ado let hereafter make merry with thee

and thine

______________________

Peter Cole

published online memorial site as sound file with Russ Roberts reading

to honour Bill Meilen Welsh thespian drama professor trickster and man about town

diolch yn fowr meistro ©