Malthouse Farm

Many a happy Day I would walk the fields of the Farm of Martin And Vickie Prichard. My dog bengi would sniff and stroll sometimes I would sketch a scene or two. While cows chewed the cud and clouds floated by overhead in fluffy cotton wool balls. Pancakes of cow dung humming in the sun and attacked by dung Beetles.Sometimes a chat or wave from friendly folk from Park farm Caerleon. A mushroom or two could often be gathered in Fern field and beyond. The years have flown by and memories linger of happier times. Less building of houses then but an ever changing scene of fields of grass built over with brick they slowly vanish. Nothing is forever as our eyes can now see. Progress must come and on our words will vanish like the wind. All that will remain only some sort of memory the painted scene of yesterday.
Painting in collection of Atan Polev, Paris

Malt House Farm Ponthir

Value what you have today future generations may not have what you take for granted today Malt house is near five hundred years old and near by buried is the old Leat of the water coarse to the old steel plate works on the Ponthir road named Brades. A Further painting viewed towards Ponthir old stables near iron Railway Bridge.

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