Capturing the world with Photography, Painting and Drawing

Posts tagged “poem

Irish Landscapes, Freedom of the Hills, Poem by : Douglas Fraser – 1968

Irish landscape images
County Waterford
Nigel Borrington

Freedom of the Hills

By: Douglas Fraser – 1968

Mine is the freedom of the tranquil hills
When vagrant breezes bend the sinewy grass,
While sunshine on the widespread landscape spills
And light as down the fleet cloud-shadowed pass.

Mine, still, that freedom when the storm-clouds race,
Cracking their whips against defiant crags
And mists swirl boiling up from inky space
To vanish on the instant, torn to rags.

When winter grips the mountains in a vice,
Silently stifling with its pall of snow,
Checking the streams, draping the rocks in ice,
Still to their mantled summits I would go.

Sun-drenched, I sense the message they impart;
Storm-lashed, I hear it sing through every vein;
Among the snows it whispers to my heart
“Here is your freedom. Taste – and come again.”

Landscape in Sunlight
Nigel Borrington


Friday Poetry – Light by : Margaret Tait

Lock Melfort
Oban – Scotland
Scottish Landscapes
Nigel Borrington

Light

A Poem By Margaret Tait

Did you say it’s made of waves?
Yes, that’s it.
I wonder what the waves are made of.
Oh, waves are made of waves.
Waves are what they are,
Shimmeringness,
Oscillation,
Rhythmical movement which is the inherent essence of all things.
Ultimately, there’s only movement,
Nothing else.
The movement that light is
Comes out of the sun
And it’s so gorgeous a thing
That nothing else is ever anything unless lit by it.


Memories, A poem By : Louise Bailey

Memories a Poem
Louise Bailey

My Heart and thoughts, ever since Monday night have almost entirely been far away from my current home here in County Kilkenny, they have been very much back in Manchester the place of my birth and childhood !!

There are so many things and feelings you could express, the main feeling I have had is that it not easy being away from your spiritual home at times like these, I am so proud about the way so many great and good people have responded and offered so much support in the hours since Monday night !!!

It is with good hearts and minds and life’s that in the end true evil will be overcome !!!!

I came across this poem by : Louise Bailey so I am sharing it here 🙂

I feel a warmth around me
like your presence is so near,
And I close my eyes to visualize
your face when you were here,
I endure the times we spent together
and they are locked inside my heart,
For as long as I have those memories
we will never be apart,
Even though we cannot speak
my voice is always there,
Because tonight before I sleep
I have you in my prayer.

Memories, A poem By : Louise Bailey


The Cottage By The Sea – A Poem by Esme Shaw

Come my love and live with me
In a sweet little cottage by the sea
Where roses grow around the door
And flowers bloom for evermore
Inside my cottage clean and neat
A big brick fireplace will give out heat
Outside the birds will sing all day
And on the beach the children play
So come my love to the cottage by the sea
And see how happy we will be.

Esme Shaw

A Cottage by the Sea …


The Fly, By William Blake, 1757 – 1827

The Fly
William Blake
Nature Photography
Nigel Borrington

Little fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death,

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.


The Last Sun light in an evening Haze

Evening haze from a March sunset
Nigel Borrington

The last Yellow beam in the sky drowns itself.
Haze tinged – leave-taken.
Delicate draperies of fog are waving.
A slight evening shadow sinks into them.

The Sun donates the last of its day.
Still standing alone in the early evening.
needing a resting from the dance.
Until starlight breaks through.

A wondrous silence falls like a dream.
The amazement of the coming night awakes.
A last call dies away, it is barely to hear.

And trees and bushes by the wayside
coming together tightly,
aspirating their song of praise into the night.


His Dream Of Skyland, A poem by : Li Po

The sound of the sea Nigel Borrington

His Dream Of Skyland
Nigel Borrington

His Dream Of Skyland

The seafarers tell of the Eastern Isle of Bliss,
It is lost in a wilderness of misty sea waves.
But the Sky-land of the south, the Yueh-landers say,
May be seen through cracks of the glimmering cloud.
This land of the sky stretches across the leagues of heaven;
It rises above the Five Mountains and towers over the Scarlet Castle,

While, as if staggering before it, the Tien-tai Peak
Of forty-eight thousand feet leans toward the southeast.

So, longing to dream of the southlands of Wu and Yueh,
I flew across the Mirror Lake one night under the moon.
ode-to-the-coast-034

The moon in the lake followed my flight,
Followed me to the town of Yen-chi.
Here still stands the mansion of Prince Hsieh.
I saw the green waters curl and heard the monkeys’ shrill cries.
I climbed, putting on the clogs of the prince,
Skyward on a ladder of clouds,
And half-way up from the sky-wall I saw the morning sun,
And heard the heaven’s cock crowing in the mid-air.
Now among a thousand precipices my way wound round and round;
Flowers choked the path; I leaned against a rock; I swooned.

Roaring bears and howling dragons roused me –
Oh, the clamorous waters of the rapids!
I trembled in the deep forest, and shuddered at the overhanging crags,
one heaped upon another.
Clouds on clouds gathered above, threatening rain;
The waters gushed below, breaking into mist.

A peal of blasting thunder!
The mountains crumbled.
The stone gate of the hollow heaven
Opened wide, revealing
A vasty realm of azure without bottom,
Sun and moon shining together on gold and silver palaces.

Rainbow over the river suir 1

Clad in rainbow and riding on the wind,
The ladies of the air descended like flower, flakes;
The faery lords trooping in, they were thick as hemp-stalks in the fields.
Phoenix birds circled their cars, and panthers played upon harps.
Bewilderment filled me, and terror seized on my heart.
I lifted myself in amazement, and alas!
I woke and found my bed and pillow –
Gone was the radiant world of gossamer.

So with all pleasures of life.
All things pass with the east-flowing water.
I leave you and go – when shall I return?
Let the white roe feed at will among the green crags,
Let me ride and visit the lovely mountains!
How can I stoop obsequiously and serve the mighty ones!
It stifles my soul.

– Li Po. Translated by: Shigeyoshi Obata


Bogland – Poem by Seamus Heaney

Bogland - Poem by Seamus Heaney Image - Nigel Borrington

Bogland – Poem by Seamus Heaney
Image – Nigel Borrington

We have no prairies
To slice a big sun at evening–
Everywhere the eye concedes to
Encrouching horizon,

Is wooed into the cyclops’ eye
Of a tarn. Our un-fenced country
Is bog that keeps crusting
Between the sights of the sun.

irish-bogland-02-nigel-borrington

They’ve taken the skeleton
Of the Great Irish Elk
Out of the peat, set it up
An astounding crate full of air.

Butter sunk under
More than a hundred years
Was recovered salty and white.
The ground itself is kind, black butter

Melting and opening underfoot,
Missing its last definition
By millions of years.
They’ll never dig coal here,

irish-bogland-03-nigel-borrington

Only the waterlogged trunks
Of great firs, soft as pulp.
Our pioneers keep striking
Inwards and downwards,

Every layer they strip
Seems camped on before.
The bogholes might be Atlantic seepage.
The wet centre is bottomless.


Irish Landscape images, county Kilkenny : The fog after the rain, a poem

Irish landscape images County Kilkenny  after the rain

Irish landscape images
County Kilkenny
after the rain

The fog after the rain , a poem

Rain falls all day in the old valley,
All the woodlands swimming underneath the steaming fog.
What peaceful sound I hear,
softly rings out of the sparkling
Woods and fields,
song of a thousand winter birds
announcing the setting sun,
Who sings loudest, after the rains.


In the bleak midwinter – Poem By Christina Rossetti

winters-trees-in-the-fog-december-2016-nigel-borrington-01

In the bleak midwinter

By Christina Rossetti

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

winters-trees-in-the-fog-december-2016-nigel-borrington-02

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

winters-trees-in-the-fog-december-2016-nigel-borrington-03

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.