Well done HHH - But I never saw the view - that's brilliant. Another one to print off and keep next to my desk. I've been running up on the fells of upper Teesdale this morning for a couple of hours in a pea-souper so your poem is very apposite.
Well done HHH - But I never saw the view - that's brilliant. Another one to print off and keep next to my desk. I've been running up on the fells of upper Teesdale this morning for a couple of hours in a pea-souper so your poem is very apposite.
Can't find the author of this one, but it was sent to me my a friend.
Tick Tock
a sky without stars
a sea without waves
a life without love
is just not the same
a life without love
a moon with no sun
is just a rock in the dark
a heart without love
is just a ticking clock
tick, tock...
_______
I was expecting someone to notice that the first three were Chumbawamba lyrics, but it was one of their more obscure reincarnations. Then I felt guilty about not mentioning it so I wrote the last one before I fessed up. I enjoy rattling this stuff off now and again when I have a bit of spare time.Originally Posted by Old Whippet
It has been a more and more common topic of conversation this year, wanting to stop and admire the view in races. The best one this year was coming out the clouds down Kirk Fell at the Wasdale Head show. Wastwater looked stunning but I couldn't stop. One day I'll go back.
Right. Time to think about my next fell running related topic. Any preferences?
all good stuff HHH
what about the BG or those long suffering hill widows
Right. Time to think about my next fell running related topic. Any preferences?[/QUOTE]
yes HHH
what about the bloody-mindedness that keeps us going.
Didn't I hear that one of Chumbawamba is a fell runner? Danbert Nobacon, or Alice Nutter?
OK - last one from me for a week - I hope this is still going when I get back from the Lakes.
Enjoying an early evening walk, and watching half a dozen Red Kites making skillful headway into the breeze, I thought of this.
Which is neither about Kites or evenings!
And I would not have thought about it if this thread was not here.
The Windhover
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
I caught this morning morning's minion, king -
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
24 hours of pain,
in darkness and in rain.
You must be off your head.
Do Kilnsey show instead.
How about both together?
There was a young man from Kentmere.
Of his wife he really did fear.
Whilst on his BG,
Off she would flee.
Cos she's sick of the reccies all year.
Found this verse in Stuart Maconies "Pies and Prejudice"
In praise of Limestone (W H Auden)
An older colder voice, the oceanic whisper:
I am the solitude that asks and promises nothing;
That is how I shall set you free. There is no love;
There are only the various envies, all them sad
(But then again Auden probably never slipped on limestone)
Wow That's dynamic OW. Immediately conjures up imagery. How very beautiful.
Thanks
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