Climbing to the top of Twthill,
As I’ve done many times before,
It’s high above Caernarfon town,
With surrounding’ hill's’ and shore,
Standing on the top of Twthill,
It’s takes your breath away,
With it wonderful looking scenery,
Inviting you to stay.
Look over’ towards Anglesey,
As you can see it’s a marvellous sight,
With the Menai straights’ flowing between us,
From high’ to the sands of low tide,
In summer’ salmon boats work their patches,
With nets' a hundred yards wide,
The boats returns with nets on the stern,
Often nothing to show’- but pride!
From late spring’ right through the summer,
Boats go after mackerel as well,
They sail through the bar, some very far,
Hoping for a good catch to sell.
In winter cold weather brings in cod,
Now everybody angles with a rod,
We had a line made out of twine,
And lead weights that needed a Hod.
Turn eastwards’ and you can see Snowdonia,
Snowdon’ is the highest peak there,
The other mountains are not lessened,
They all make Snowdonia fair.
Under a blanket of snow in the Winter,
The hills of Snowdonia underneath,
Animals and birds from the hillside descend,
To the lowlands for shelter and feed.
The herald of spring bringing blue skies,
The mountains again seems alive,
As they’ve awoken from a great slumber,
Being greeted by all’ same as I.
In summer Snowdonia looks beautiful,
Where birds floats the thermals all day,
Time is easy to forget’ with little regrets,
Your troubles will seem far away.
To my mind it’s seems therapeutic,
How it can ease your cares away,
From Twthill to the hills of Snowdonia.
Once seen’ your captured you'll-stay.