We are like the Dreamer …….
By Arthur O’Shaughnessy
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world’s great cities.
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song’s measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o’erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.
Today is our first full day back in County Kilkenny, Ireland, having just spent ten days staying with a close friend in Cardigan Wales, here are just a few of the images taken during the time spend in this wonderful part of the British isles…..
The Evening Light
Angels their silvery trumpets blow,
At dawn, to greet the Morning Glow,
And mortals lift adoring eyes
To see the glorious sun arise.
Then, winged by Faith, and spurred by Hope
Youth scans the hill, youth scales the slope.
Its pulses bound, its thoughts exult,
It finds no danger difficult,
Quickens its pace, disdaining ease
Victor before it comes and sees,
Feeling the Universe its own,
The Sovereign of a Self—made Throne.
Each hope fulfilled, obtained each prayer,
We glory in the Noonday Glare.
Welcome the blinding heat of strife,
Deeming resistance part of life.
We deal the blow, return the stroke,
Fighting our way through dust and smoke,
Until, our battle—banner furled,
We tower above a conquered World;
Whether one leads mankind along
By gift of speech or grace of song,
Seizes by forceful hand the helm,
Or adds an Empire to the Realm,
Confronts the sun with forehead bare,
Exulting in the Noonday Glare.
But, as the lengthening shadows glide
Silent towards the eventide,
And dew baptizes leaf and flower
In twilight’s sanctuary hour,
A sacred Something haunts the air,
Tender as love, devout as prayer,
And in the lofty dome afar
Glimmers one bright outriding star,
Announcing to the watchful sight
Coming battalions of the Night.
Then Noonday Glare and Morning Glow
Fade into shadowy Long—ago.
One feels Earth’s vain ambitions fade
Into the vanished dust they made.
All that the glow of dawn foretold,
And all the glare of noon unrolled,
Seem nothing to the quiet joy
No clamour mars, no cares destroy,
‘Twixt restless day and restful night,
That cometh with the Evening Light.
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.
Its hard to Believe that it is the end of November already !!
These images are of the last sunset, November 2016 🙂
LAST LIGHT OF DAY.
Last light of day, a golden sunset
Last time to play, but I’m not done yet
I love a sunset, a golden late afternoon
This is as good as it gets, so I sit and croon
Croon about, this fortunate life
Grateful about a tolerant wife
Happy about the things I’ve done
Happy you are, the only one
Last light of day, we anticipate the night
Let me show the way, to pure delight
Let us sit in the moonlight, enjoy each other
Let me savour this sight, let me discover
Discover this person, that is you
Just simply conversin, between us two
Sometimes no words are needed to be said
That might sound absurd, but it’s what’s in my head
A river Poem By : Manonton Dalan
TREE BY THE RIVER
Under the tree’s canopy, there I lay
Dreaming how the world could be
Beyond those clouds, the horizon
Would there be one like me, alone
Got up pick up the roundest stone
Cast to the river and glide by its own
Hits a ripple, goes airborne
For a kid like me, it is a phenom
By the grassy banks, frogs abound
Love to disturb them,
into the river they plunge
Never tried to catch them because they slime
So beautiful, shiny greenish yellow, brown
Water is crystal clear,
see fishes swimming
Stones unturned are coated with stringy green
Constantly dancing as the little shells cling
Reach down to touch the water
Felt something came to me, a power
Don’t know what it was but still here
Sunset’s Ghost – Poem by Richard George
Lilac clouds, a wash of green
At daylight’s end:
When west is dark, to northward
A heat-haze aurora
Silhouettes our roof-slopes.
Beautiful, but it chills me:
We have made her burn with fever,
The sky, our mother.
Poem By : Richard George
A distant look in her eyes,
Stretching beyond the horizon.
A battle long fought,
In her dreams so surreal.
A thousand miles did she walk,
Before pausing to rest.
But the lights began to fade,
For it was time for her sunset.