1. The column of slate
2. The cotton on the bog
3. The river under the bridge
4. The shallow waters
The idea ran its course for me, but feel free to take it up
Monday, 22 December 2014
Sunday, 21 December 2014
last post (the nine days of christmas day five)
As long as one is conscious, nothing temporary, no past experience, is ever truly lost
Hermann Hesse
i will always have the poem
of the gentle butterfly
floating and fluttering in the garden
i can draw on the beauty and emotion
of moments and spaces that only ever
truly existed within my imagination
i will always have the song
of a beautiful woman walking
strolling through the headland meadow
i am taken to summers near and far away
both real, and from that immense
and infinite land of make believe
i will always have the images
of spiritual paintings
a time, of both then and now, when
i may retreat to a peaceful meditative place
with time and peace to encourage my practice
to flower with the energy and love of my mind
Shaun And The Highly Strung Arabian Mare
He came from the mountains, to build a house of stone, he took us to the loch side, and told of the eccentric lady’s home
She returned without her family, she chose to leave them behind, she was an abstract painter, and the most determined gardener he did find
She wrapped flowers in wool and cotton, to save them from the night, with all her love she tended, during long winters lack of light
We twist and turn through the passes, with stories of his working life, of the mountains blue and gold reflections, in cities far and wide
He tells of buying horses, and this diamond mare he found, he tells of having to break her, yet with excitable tenderness she did rebound
He is here and he is home now, but the money it cannot last, once more he will travel, for his labour is the sole provider for his loved and loving caste
Saturday, 20 December 2014
sant salvador (the nine days of christmas day four)
my window faces
the rising sun
this gift of life
each day is spun
i hear your footsteps
in my mind
this gift of peace
such joy to find
silent mornings
in my arms
this gift of love
brings me calm
i see you pray
you alone
this gift of time
carved in stone
my window faces
the setting sun
this gift of words
unspoken, quietly undone
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