Long Tarns Poems

In my New York suburb, I’m mildly fond
Of Helvellyn Road, and Gracemere pond
But the original Helvellyn called...  
Ravenglass too, even the name enthralled.
Of Lake poets, I eagerly read
And I found what Alfred Wainright once...

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For milliards of tough years
You have stood in our midst
Unperturbed, indomitable
And you have enticed the rain
And it has showered our fields
Our ridges and verdant plains
And filled not only our rivers
But our streams and rivulets
And much...

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...is what we see
Emotions are the weather of the mind
We live between peaks and troughs
The former breeds hubris with downfall built in
The latter deals with death,darkness and despair
Our mood colours our world,clouding our judgment
Darkening our...

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RICH IS THE BLOOD!
A witch has capabilities to get me if I am curse.
God knows she can scare a stone in his or her godly works.
However, the road I travel leaves her flabbergasted.
Her spells and...

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Tomorrow will be too late to pen the imminent
Hold onto the moment and sketch the future

Backdrops must be moved for change
Leads and understudies pass by or fade

Wrest the quill from the bottle, seize your moment…


Inscribe...

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We wander for form, but at a snail's pace
We grasp pure air and feel the hills fully
We find joy walking to our desired place

By gazing, we might parse where fine sprouts face
We watch strange birds rippling...

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Kaleidoscope of Life. 
And behind the forest sings that nothing is the way you think 
and try as you might make love to one you do not love gives
a feeling of lost time, of a...

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Deep In The Mountain Tarns

Deep in the mountains,  
  Beyond a lost road,
Mystical spirits
Have their wild abode.

Lonely abysses
Of primeval dread,
Forests were freely 
the shy fairies tread.

The eagle hovers
In safety there,
With keen eyes watching
Nest...

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O to be in England
in the early days of spring 
when the golden daffodils 
steal the heart and make it sing.         

Roaming the Lake District  
far...

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O to be in England
in the early days of spring 
when the golden daffodils 
steal the heart and make it sing.         

Roaming the Lake District  
far...

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Gulls and Other Birds. 
As we left harbour seagulls and their mewling followed
 us for a few hours, then they slowly disappeared and we
were in a world of floating iron with cargo in the ship´s
hold...

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Sweet summer winds, hear me
Ne’er endure this bewailing daybreak
For where whether not daylight rises
Now silenced eternal under prettified blossoms
Sleeps that sweet beauty that defined me.
Under the dimly faded blanket of Gaia 
In the blanched obsidian...

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