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#8, Englyn proest gadwynog or chain of half rhyme englyn

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Explore the Craft of Writing Poetry

Englyn proest gadwynog én-glin proyst ga-doy-nóg cadwyn or (chain of half-rhyme), the 8th codified Official Welsh Meter, an Englyn, is verse that employs both alternating full rhyme which half rhymes with the alternating full rhymes. To complicate things further no half rhyme may occur within the lines.


The englyn proest gadwynog is:

  • stanzaic, written in a chain of quatrains.
  • syllabic, 7 syllable lines.
  • rhymed, each line half rhymes with the next line and fully rhymes with the next. L1 and L3 fully rhyme with each other, L2 and L4 half rhyme with the rhyme of L1 and L3 and should fully rhyme with each other. The full rhymes of L1 and L3 half rhyme with the full rhyme of L1 and L3.
  • chained, the last word of the stanza begins the next stanza.
    x x x x x x A

    x x x x x x a

    x x x x x x A

    x x x x x x a


    a x x x x x B

    x x x x x x b

    x x x x x x B

    x x x x x x b





    Kael or war koler euraid

    Karw Edwart mewn kaer ydwyd

    Kael o ebolion lonaid

    Kann ystabl yt, kwnstabl wyd.

    --- Dafydd Nanmor

    Warrior Woman by Judi Van Gorder


    Desired by all who've seen

    the royal fighting woman,

    Gweneviere the Warrior Queen,

    behold, King Arthur's chosen.


    Chosen from the very best

    appearing out from the mist

    stand beside him in his quest

    join Camolot's wedding feast.


    Feast of victory and peace

    lady takes her rightful place

    in time see injustice cease

    royals joined in married bliss.




    The Desert Palm by Stephen Arndt


    Like an upright spine, your trunk

    Grows as straight as any plank

    And, with roots so deeply sunk,

    Towers upwards, lean and lank.


    Lank as well, your long, green leaves,

    Ranged in spirals, spend their lives

    Capping a crown that receives

    But rare drops of rain, yet thrives.


    Thrive serene in heartless heat,

    Poised upon your peaceful height;

    See us speed our hurried feet,

    Watch us flee in hasty flight.


    Flight or fight of little ants

    Scrapping over scant amounts—

    Thus must seem our frantic dance

    When you total our accounts.

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