Today's poet

ooo that gave me goosebumps! Excellent. :D:cool:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

Funny how you see places differently when you're mid-way round the BGR?! Time to add Dunmail to Martcrag, Broad Stand and Yewbarrow to the list of BGR poems written in Costa watching the world go by... Hope it resonates with people because this is how I now see this pivotal spot. It's written from the point of view of the contender and the road supporters, all of which see Dunmail with fresh eyes after a round.

Dunmail

A pass to most
A halt to us
A raise to most
A depth to us
North-south to most
East-west to us
Remote to most
Hubbub to us
Passed by to most
Absorbed by us
A verge to most
Parking to us
Unknown to most
Dear to us
A road to most
Dunmail to us

---

Quote:

---

Dunmail

A pass to most
A halt to us
A raise to most
A depth to us
North-south to most
East-west to us
Remote to most
Hubbub to us
Passed by to most
Absorbed by us
A verge to most
Parking to us
Unknown to most
Dear to us
A road to most
Dunmail to us

---

Whilst I totally get the the bob graham round inspiration here, the poem just fantastically describes pretty much any high road crossing point. Although I mostly try and avoid civilisation crossing points while out running, there's a real satisfaction when you appear wet and muddy out of the gloom, say hello to a couple of 'civvies' parked up in a lay by, which to all intents and purposes they might feel is on top of the world, and then disappear again, hacking on up the next climb.

Who can almost hear them mumbling 'who was that fecking idiot' as you trot on :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

Funny how you see places differently when you're mid-way round the BGR?! Time to add Dunmail to Martcrag, Broad Stand and Yewbarrow to the list of BGR poems written in Costa watching the world go by... Hope it resonates with people because this is how I now see this pivotal spot. It's written from the point of view of the contender and the road supporters, all of which see Dunmail with fresh eyes after a round.

Dunmail

A pass to most
A halt to us
A raise to most
A depth to us
North-south to most
East-west to us
Remote to most
Hubbub to us
Passed by to most
Absorbed by us
A verge to most
Parking to us
Unknown to most
Dear to us
A road to most
Dunmail to us

---

Excellent OneOff, a pleasure to read this am. - thanks.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Stevie

It's good to have a "real" poet in our midst. I don't think the poem you mention has been posted on this forum so here it is:

The Song of Ungirt Runners

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
'Neath the big bare sky.

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.

Charles Hamilton Sorley

I was interested to read on Wikipedia that cross country running in the rain was a favourite activity of Sorley.

---

Ooooooooooooooooh Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Lovelllllllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. YES!

Todays sky is blanketed with grey!

The Cloud by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardors of rest and of love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,--
The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-colored bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
While the moist Earth was laughing below.

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.

Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????

INVISIBLE KISSES

by Lemn Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
To whom you could cry;
Who would gather each tear
And blow it dry;
Who would offer help
On the mountains of time;
Who would stop to let each sunset
Soothe the jaded mind.

If there was ever one
To whom when you run
Will push back the clouds
So you are bathed in sun;
Who would open arms
If you would fall;
Who would show you everything
If you lost it all.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who when you are cold
Will summon warm air
For your hands to hold;
Who would make peace
In pouring pain,
Make laughter fall
In falling rain.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

Yes, there needs to be health warning too as they always make me cry!!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????

INVISIBLE KISSES

by Lemn Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
To whom you could cry;
Who would gather each tear
And blow it dry;
Who would offer help
On the mountains of time;
Who would stop to let each sunset
Soothe the jaded mind.

If there was ever one
To whom when you run
Will push back the clouds
So you are bathed in sun;
Who would open arms
If you would fall;
Who would show you everything
If you lost it all.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who when you are cold
Will summon warm air
For your hands to hold;
Who would make peace
In pouring pain,
Make laughter fall
In falling rain.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

---

You soppy bugger Mossdog! Pull yourself together :p

Joking apart, great poem! :cool:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????

INVISIBLE KISSES

by Lemn Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
To whom you could cry;
Who would gather each tear
And blow it dry;
Who would offer help
On the mountains of time;
Who would stop to let each sunset
Soothe the jaded mind.

If there was ever one
To whom when you run
Will push back the clouds
So you are bathed in sun;
Who would open arms
If you would fall;
Who would show you everything
If you lost it all.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who when you are cold
Will summon warm air
For your hands to hold;
Who would make peace
In pouring pain,
Make laughter fall
In falling rain.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????

INVISIBLE KISSES

by Lemn Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
To whom you could cry;
Who would gather each tear
And blow it dry;
Who would offer help
On the mountains of time;
Who would stop to let each sunset
Soothe the jaded mind.

If there was ever one
To whom when you run
Will push back the clouds
So you are bathed in sun;
Who would open arms
If you would fall;
Who would show you everything
If you lost it all.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who when you are cold
Will summon warm air
For your hands to hold;
Who would make peace
In pouring pain,
Make laughter fall
In falling rain.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

---

I adore this poem thank you so much for posting it....i had tried to find it recently and couldn't quite remember what it was called...i once had a copy of him reading it which is beautiful will try and find it.....loveleeeeeeeeeeeeee!


ps ...just found it here....

http://www.lemnsissay.com/recordings/index.htm

i am nearly crying now too emmi!

[QUOTE=Mossdog;328801]Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????QUOTE]

Great poem Mossy. I like the sub-section idea too, would save us making some of the other forumites want to vomit. I think the current thought diversion has been a common theme with some of us on the thread! ;) I can very much relate to your comments and unfortunately have not been posting much due to being preoccupied and also writing poetry that I am rather shy about posting.:)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by OneOffPoet

Funny how you see places differently when you're mid-way round the BGR?! Time to add Dunmail to Martcrag, Broad Stand and Yewbarrow to the list of BGR poems written in Costa watching the world go by... Hope it resonates with people because this is how I now see this pivotal spot. It's written from the point of view of the contender and the road supporters, all of which see Dunmail with fresh eyes after a round.

Dunmail

A pass to most
A halt to us
A raise to most
A depth to us
North-south to most
East-west to us
Remote to most
Hubbub to us
Passed by to most
Absorbed by us
A verge to most
Parking to us
Unknown to most
Dear to us
A road to most
Dunmail to us

---

Blooming great. I really hope that you'll blow your cover and come to Dufton. This thread has made me write poems for the first time too. All thanks to our Freckle!

Thanks for the link Woodlander. It looks great and I'll peruse it better when I am not supposed to be working! I loved 'The Song of the Ungirt Runners' and have been having a similar conversation about why we run with a very dear friend of mine. I think I'll send it to him.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by woodlander

Thanks forkind comments Stevie, Derby Tup, Harry Howgill and everyone on this forum. You are great!
By the way, my favourite poem about running is 'The Song of the Ungirt Runners'. I haven't checked but it MUST be on the blog and on this thread too!

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

Thanks for the link Woodlander. It looks great and I'll peruse it better when I am not supposed to be working! I loved 'The Song of the Ungirt Runners' and have been having a similar conversation about why we run with a very dear friend of mine. I think I'll send it to him.

---

Great link Woodlander, just found 'The Song of the Ungirt Runners', brilliant, some other great long stuff from Mossdog and MG.

Oh tears!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Ok, I'm sorry. But for once fell running isn't the only thing dominating my thoughts........ Er....maybe we need a sub-section to this thread? 'Incurable Romantic Fell Running Poets Section'?????

INVISIBLE KISSES

by Lemn Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
To whom you could cry;
Who would gather each tear
And blow it dry;
Who would offer help
On the mountains of time;
Who would stop to let each sunset
Soothe the jaded mind.

If there was ever one
To whom when you run
Will push back the clouds
So you are bathed in sun;
Who would open arms
If you would fall;
Who would show you everything
If you lost it all.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who when you are cold
Will summon warm air
For your hands to hold;
Who would make peace
In pouring pain,
Make laughter fall
In falling rain.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

---

[QUOTE=Derby Tup;328811]You soppy bugger Mossdog! Pull yourself together :p

Joking apart, great poem! :cool:[/QUOTE


Never let it be said that I can't do 'bloke' too and cater for all tastes :rolleyes:

A Bloke Called Sid (Aggro-Man)


Because his day was rather dull
Sid kicked a tramp and broke his skull,
He liked to think that he was tough
And no-one dared to call his bluff
Except that day a guy called Geoff
Declared outright 'You're just a pouf! ! '
That ended in a bloody fight
But he felt really great that night,
He'd punched him hard and cracked his ribs
And put an end to his filthy fibs.
No-one was gonna call him 'gay',
Not if they wanted to walk away!
He quite liked girls but he left his wife
'Cos she always nagged him about his knife,
He'd got her pregnant anyway
And she needn't think he was gonna stay
And listen to some screaming kid
And a wife who hated whatever he did;
He'd got important things to do
Which wouldn't interest a c*nt like you,
(C*nts like you don't have a clue
And always go running to the Boys in Blue!)
One day when he was crossing the road
A car swerved past and left him dead
(He lay there in a pool of blood,
At least that's what the papers said.)
You may think he was a waste of space
But you wouldn't have said that to his face,
He led a life of petty crime
And now he's locked up in this rhyme.

John Thorkild Ellison

Love.

Love is like the colours reflected in your eyes,
Your gentle words, your moans and sighs,
The way you elevate me to more than a man,
For you i will be all that i can,
Together forever as stardust,
Through our eternal bond of trust.


By Herakles.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Herakles

Love.

Love is like the colours reflected in your eyes,
Your gentle words, your moans and sighs,
The way you elevate me to more than a man,
For you i will be all that i can,
Together forever as stardust,
Through our eternal bond of trust.


By Herakles.

---

Now that, is truly inspired. Cheers Herakles.

“The Still Point”

If time is passing, she is unaware of it.
The daffodils are blooming and the blunt white buds
of the bloodroot have opened, still clasped in a hand of leaf.
She has planted poles in the garden in anticipation
of roses and clematis, and wicker cages for the peas
still dormant in the warming soil. She doesn’t hold
with abstractions or speculation. Things unfold, develop
and die. The earth turns on its axis, as it should.
Seasons change - the dog has lost his winter coat, the finches
have transformed themselves into small splashes of sunlight -
but her ears are stopped against the ticking of the clock.
In any event, the brash clash of forsythia -
a yellow jubilation - drowns all other sound.
Two young eagles circle above the lawn
Rising and falling on the lazy air.

MAIRI

Loved that one Herakles :D Well done :cool:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

“The Still Point”

If time is passing, she is unaware of it.
The daffodils are blooming and the blunt white buds
of the bloodroot have opened, still clasped in a hand of leaf.
She has planted poles in the garden in anticipation
of roses and clematis, and wicker cages for the peas
still dormant in the warming soil. She doesn’t hold
with abstractions or speculation. Things unfold, develop
and die. The earth turns on its axis, as it should.
Seasons change - the dog has lost his winter coat, the finches
have transformed themselves into small splashes of sunlight -
but her ears are stopped against the ticking of the clock.
In any event, the brash clash of forsythia -
a yellow jubilation - drowns all other sound.
Two young eagles circle above the lawn
Rising and falling on the lazy air.

MAIRI

---

It took me a couple of reads and then I got it ... which added to my enjoyment of this poem...thanks for posting it Mossy :D

Looks like I was the last one on t'other night, you are all obviously getting your beauty sleep unlike this "time worn" Alfer who gave up on that many a year ago :rolleyes:

Here's a spot of Marlowe to start the day rolling.

Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight?

It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

Christopher Marlowe

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Alf

Looks like I was the last one on t'other night, you are all obviously getting your beauty sleep unlike this "time worn" Alfer who gave up on that many a year ago :rolleyes:

Here's a spot of Marlowe to start the day rolling.

Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight?

It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

Christopher Marlowe

---

Er Alf, that's really deep. I too have had to read that several times and, ummmm, I'm not sure I get it yet. I think his view is that love is unfathomable and can't be contrived and so must be instantaneous, i.e at first sight, or...it ain't the real thing, or at least only a pale reflection of 'the real thing'. But perhaps I'm mis-reading????:o

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

---

this is really beautiful mossdog, excellent stuff!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Er Alf, that's really deep. I too have had to read that several times and, ummmm, I'm not sure I get it yet. I think his view is that love is unfathomable and can't be contrived and so must be instantaneous, i.e at first sight, or...it ain't the real thing, or at least only a pale reflection of 'the real thing'. But perhaps I'm mis-reading????:o

---

I really liked that poem too and concur with your view Mossdog....I think that love is a largely irrational affair, that we project all our wants and desires onto the loved object and sometimes it works out! other times we realise with great clarity that it has all been a figmet of our imagination!

Misplaced love
in a moonbeam
refracted unexpectedly
and now on course
for the centre
of you (me)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

this is really beautiful mossdog, excellent stuff!

---

Thank you Frecks, but it's not quite right. I spooked a curlew while running off the fells last evening and, like many of us with 'stuff' going on our lives, its call and appearance caused me to reflect. But those lines are too wordy, need paring down, and I've relied too much on description rather than metaphor. Still we can (as my curlew might have advised!) only keep trying eh?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

I really liked that poem too and concur with your view Mossdog....I think that love is a largely irrational affair, that we project all our wants and desires onto the loved object and sometimes it works out! other times we realise with great clarity that it has all been a figmet of our imagination!

Misplaced love
in a moonbeam
refracted unexpectedly
and now on course
for the centre
of you (me)

---

Bloody hell Frecks, please, please don't tell me that you made that wonderful verse up just on the spur of the moment, cos I might as well just give up and go home now if you have. V Lovely.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Thank you Frecks, but it's not quite right. I spooked a curlew while running off the fells last evening and, like many of us with 'stuff' going on our lives, its call and appearance caused me to reflect. But those lines are too wordy, need paring down, and I've relied too much on description rather than metaphor. Still we can (as my curlew might have advised!) only keep trying eh?

---

well i think you are hard on yoursel Mossy...i particularly liked verse 2!...i haven't written properly for ages....waiting for a bolt of inspiration to strike! I am only just recovering from the fatigue of the anniversary waltz to be honest! (hence earlier nights alf!) but very much looking forward to heading to the lakes again for the keswick half marathon on sunday with the little uns in tow....

run ma run!
never mind the sun
newlands valley is safer
with a bit of ticker taper!

if any other fell poeters are doing this let me know!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Bloody hell Frecks, please, please don't tell me that you made that wonderful verse up just on the spur of the moment, cos I might as well just give up and go home now if you have. V Lovely.

---

Aw you are sweet Mossy...it was just on the back on your inspired lines...right i'm off to pick up my kids from their pals and hope to be back on laters, take care x

This is stunning Mossy. I think it is one of the best I've read in ages. I've been watching and listening to curlews up on the moors as part of my artist in residence project at Nidderdale Museum and they have also become meaningful for other reasons. I'm going to print this out and stick it up in my studio if that is ok (poet acknowledged of course :)).

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

---

This is so lovely too Freckle. Love is a strange old thing. I definitely agree about the projection thing and have fallen foul of that in a number of past relationships but am currently totally bewildered by a love at first sight connection that keeps on astounding especially since neither parties were looking for or wanted a relationship and both of were fearful of getting involved but compelled to do so anyway. It defies belief and continues to amaze. Hope neither wakes up!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

I really liked that poem too and concur with your view Mossdog....I think that love is a largely irrational affair, that we project all our wants and desires onto the loved object and sometimes it works out! other times we realise with great clarity that it has all been a figmet of our imagination!

Misplaced love
in a moonbeam
refracted unexpectedly
and now on course
for the centre
of you (me)

---

planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

This is stunning Mossy. I think it is one of the best I've read in ages. I've been watching and listening to curlews up on the moors as part of my artist in residence project at Nidderdale Museum and they have also become meaningful for other reasons. I'm going to print this out and stick it up in my studio if that is ok (poet acknowledged of course :)).

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Hes, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. And I'd feel very honored to think of you placing it on your studio wall. Curlews, lapwings, golden plovers and even the occasional enigmatic snipe, abound in Teesdale at the moment (but sadly few Oyster Catchers on the north side of the dale) and they all contribute to that special, distinctive haunting mood of a Pennine Spring evening.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

---

You've got swallows, wow
Teesdale scans all horizons
speedy friends 'come home'!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Er Alf, that's really deep. I too have had to read that several times and, ummmm, I'm not sure I get it yet. I think his view is that love is unfathomable and can't be contrived and so must be instantaneous, i.e at first sight, or...it ain't the real thing, or at least only a pale reflection of 'the real thing'. But perhaps I'm mis-reading????:o

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I think you are right there Mossy. The title pretty much sums up the poem which is not always the case with poetry. The two gold ingots I think are Love/Heart and the Will . Although both are powerful love will overide the will so the purest form of love is love at first sight before the will can have any effect.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

---

Thats quality Mossy :cool: I only had a few sparrows to look at out of the window today :D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

---

Love the way the whole thing turns round in just 3 lines :cool:

I love that Mossy. The sound of Curlew is one of the things I'm lucky enough to hear at work every day.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

---

My Existence Years 88-96.

I drink myself lonely,
And hate myself in the morning,
A pale insipid youth,
Head banging like an engine piston,
I do this to myself night after night,
Livers shot,
But it's the only way i can keep,
The black dog from taking over,
No friends,no lover just surviving,
Only a few years left,
If i don't find another way,
Come forth the peaceful night,
Wipe away my torrid life,
In death there is no suffering,
Peace at last.

By Herakles.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Herakles

My Existence Years 88-96.

I drink myself lonely,
And hate myself in the morning,
A pale insipid youth,
Head banging like an engine piston,
I do this to myself night after night,
Livers shot,
But it's the only way i can keep,
The black dog from taking over,
No friends,no lover just surviving,
Only a few years left,
If i don't find another way,
Come forth the peaceful night,
Wipe away my torrid life,
In death there is no suffering,
Peace at last.

By Herakles.

---

Like that Herakles, kind of sums up how i feel at the mo, except got a lover and friends and kids who need me, but no job, confidence, self-esteem, motivation or hair:rolleyes: