Tag Archives: thought

Presence …

                At Tintern, within the gaunt tracery of stone, the flames of Faith still burn – winged fire of praise and prayer permeates. The monks intone.

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November song …

I lie awake; white moonlight floods the night. From the ash tree a tawny owl calls repetitively. His unmistakeable notes haunt the cold air. I await an answering response; her softer song, call and reply – that autumnal antiphon.

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In the formal garden …

In the formal garden a curvilinear fountain controls the water flow; confined by the sharp geometry of a pool rippling liquid stills. Languid fish glow golden beneath their unruffled sky swimming in silence among reflected clouds .. Beyond the grey … Continue reading

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Some kind of poetic expression …

Thoughts breathing .. words struggle for air .. some kind of poetic expression is born, mute, in my mind. I scuff through leaves like a heedless child while turbulent clouds harass the blue of the sky – then I see … Continue reading

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Into the heart of Spring …

Into the heart of Spring I gaze; into the mysterious centre .. this tender-seeming plant, defying storms and rain; offers to the fitful sun its pale petals of perfection .. another Winter; another Spring; the lengthening of the days; the … Continue reading

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Storm clouds …

Dark brood the clouds over the sea; shadows of foreboding sweep inshore. Sharp rain in the wind, a deserted beach; colours drained away, night now in the day .. no ships on the horizon, no birds on the wing the … Continue reading

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November morning … .

I sit before the keyboard like a composer at a piano; flexing my thoughts like fingers, seeking the unheard sequence of notes from the mind’s silent symphony. A chaffinch trills in the November rain; breaking the silence of this reverie. … Continue reading

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How do I know I exist? … On Descartes

  How do I know I exist? A question to be questioned In Cartesian form; If I am not mistaken I ask myself Could my belief in God Remain unshaken? Although it does not think – The material world exists. … Continue reading

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The Curlew

I trod Autumn underfoot: trampling muddied, slippery leaves, beech mast and sweet chestnut fruits .. I saw the tallest of the pine trees draped in ghostly honeysuckle seeds. I found late blackberries bedewed, interwoven with the cobwebs a determined spider … Continue reading

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Another day …

From the owl’s starlit hour, the dawn dispels the night, and with her imperious power claims the morning’s light. Though night, banished by the sun, leaves shadows in its wake with another day begun; wraiths of muted heart-ache. But a … Continue reading

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