Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Posts tagged “monday

Monday Poetry : Light By – Saugat Upadhyay

ballykeefe-kilkenny-landscape-photography-nigel-borrington

light

Light is a way,
Light is a zone,
Light is a past,
Which shows the future.
Light is a mountain,
Light is a hurdle,
Light is a debt,
Which leads to the quest.
Light is a beginning,
Light is a end,
Light is a truth,
Which gives us a fruit.
Light is a flower,
Light is a fragrance,
Light is a life,
Which gives hope to survive.


Monday Morning Nature Photography and a Poetry , “The Spiders web” by E.B. White

Wildlife and Nature images Spider in her web Nigel Borrington

Wildlife and Nature images
Spider in her web
Nigel Borrington

This Morning while walking through our local woods, I came across a Gorse bush and noticed that its was decorated with spiders webs. Each web was covered in early morning dew, so I started to take a few photographs, while doing so I noticed that the spider who had most likely spent most of the night creating these amazing structures was still at work.

It was a great moment! just to stop and watch her as she continued to work on finishing just another one of so many of her webs, I managed to captures some close up images , some of which I share here – 🙂 🙂

“The Spiders web” by E.B. White

The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unfolds a plan of her devising,
A thin premeditated rig
To use in rising.

And all that journey down through space,
In cool descent and loyal hearted,
She spins a ladder to the place
From where she started.

Thus I, gone forth as spiders do
In spider’s web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken thread to you
For my returning.
E.B. White

Spiders web Gallery

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a-spider-on-slievenamon-nigel-borrington-4

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Wildlife and Nature images Spider in her web Nigel Borrington

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Monday Poetry – The Eagle By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The Eagle

The Eagle  Nigel Borrington

The Eagle
Nigel Borrington

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.


Monday Poetry, Ancient Stones By Donna Jones

Ancient Ireland Standing stones Nigel Borrington

Ancient Ireland
Standing stones
Nigel Borrington

Ancient Stones

Charcoal black tip of arrowhead,
among these ancient, stones – stained red

Heartbeats share rhythms of ghostly drums..
Winds carry haunting, chanting hums

I feel your blood, flow here with mine,
outlasting, even decaying time

I’ve been told the stories, told to you,
I know we’re just spirits, passing through

When thunder, shakes awake the night,
I vision warriors by firelight

Their voices echo, around mountain’s soul,
while moon and stars watch us below

Respect the sky, and mother earth,
borrow the beauty, from time of birth

Then give in death peacefully
yourself, to rest eternally

Among these ancient, stones – stained red,
my mirror reflects traces, of those long………..
remembered…….

Donna Jones


Monday Poetry : The Rise Of The Blue Swan – andy fardell

The Rise Of The Blue Swan Nature Photography Nigel Borrington

The Rise Of The Blue Swan
Nature Photography
Nigel Borrington

The Rise Of The Blue Swan

He hid in the shadows of his life
For the world hurt him and all that he wanted
A mind shattered into the shards of hurt that burned
His skin at the merest thought

The blue swan laid low
Like a sunset hidden in the midday sun
Or a full moon ready in the depths of the darkest hollow
His time would come
The blossom would break and his beating wings would soon rise
For he was the blue swan
His pen ready yet she was hidden in the clouds of his uncleared mind
A mate for his remainder
Their love
His way

Swan so blue please wake from your bitter
Shine like the kindred spirit you had before the storm
Swan of the day
Love of the night
Your future is waiting
So bright is your fire
The day has come for the blue swan to fly
So beat like the earth on the run
Rise to the mountains
Shout to the sky
Fly
Blue
Fly ..

andy fardell
Feb 23, 2014


Monday Mornings , An October’s beach in Black and White ….

Irish Landscape Photography Nigel Borrington

Irish Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington
October in Black and white.

Monday the 5th of October !

Monday Mornings are always a little like stepping onto a beach in the early Morning light, you wonder what you will find as you walk through the dunes and take your first steps into the sand. Many – many times you have been here before but seeing the beach again each morning you never now what has changed over night.

New drift wood, the ripples in the sand from the overnight tide and foot steps left by other early morning walkers, all these things will change the path you have to take as you take your own walk!

Irish Landscape Photography Nigel Borrington 14

Irish Landscape Photography Nigel Borrington 13


Monday Morning , Poem By Sainche Micano

Walking to work Eyeries County Cork

Walking to work
Eyeries
County Cork

Monday morning

By : sainche micano

Waking up to routine
craving for a new thing
the broken life still clinging
and the hopeful soul still living
..oh no
says the thoughtful me
….oh yes
says the faithful side
not lost
but tossed
..to face the replay of last week
one more time
..only that this time..
i won’t have you for a while


Monday Poetry : You Haven’t Seen The Last Of Us

Orion 2

You Haven’t Seen The Last Of Us

By : Lady Ravenwolf

Do as you will and harm none, ever mind the rule of three
Is one of the most important rules of the wiccan reed
Lets take a look back in history
Ways of the old lost within time
All but forgotten, shrouded in mystery

They were a peaceful kind
Yet thousands met such an untimely demise
The ultimate betrayal of mankind
She’s a witch, they’d point and scream
Those were the burning times

You mortals forever ignorant
She is one of many
With blood line ever strong
Her daughters are alive and well
Apparently you missed a few

The witch seen before you
Is a new kind of breed
Dressed completely in black
Morning the death of sisters past
I will forget my own path

Midwinters day 2013

Dancing between the worlds
Choosing to walk the in the gray
My magic is powerful
Though I seek not to harm
I will protect what is me and mine

This will be a finial warning
It is most unwise to cross me
With the flick of my hand
A curse will be placed
With a piercing cackle heard


Monday Poetry , Time along a rivers ……

I walk along a river Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

I walk along a river
Landscape Photography : Nigel Borrington

Monday Poetry , Time along a rivers ……

I walk along a River of Time,
do I move or is it the waters?
Can I match its pace?

It flows by, driving my very thoughts,
without any meaning, in my reality,
for that I need to jump in !

Time is like the rivers flow 3

What day is this, what hour?
this flow has no meaning,
is it without power?
A cause without effect?

For me the water flows by eternally
but
It’s end is out at sea.

I Stand aware of my place in the Universe,
forever alive, outside of good or bad,
changing form so many times,
did I not come from this water?
I cannot remember!

Time is like the rivers flow 2

Neutral I stand, judging not,
Just watching this River.

It flows by,
with my fingers pushed in,
Momentarily touching me,
It’s power drives me on!

This river is all about the giver …
The Universe of power ….
The one without time…

Nigel 2015


Monday Morning Poems : “A Red, Red Rose” by : Robert Burns

Like a Red Rose on June Nigel Borrington

Like a Red Rose in June
Nigel Borrington

A Red, Red Rose

by Robert Burns

My love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June :
My love is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel a while !
And I will come again, my love,
Thou’ it were ten thousand mile.