The Loch

 

There is no moment that remains the same,

But from the sky an alteration comes.

The grey and blue on water make their claim.

The power below to the power above succumbs.

Sometimes a mist all sight of hills precludes.

In other times bright sun a view gives sight

Of fields that passing flowers of spring includes.

None stays.  All sweetness passes into night.

Yet stillness in the rocks and hills remains.

No moments here, for ages give but little change.

The rising sun still gives the seed its gains

The laws of nature stay within their range.

The stillness covered by a fickle face

Gives peace, despite life’s rampant pace.

 

Peter M. Grinham © 10.7.’14

A Verse for Palm Sunday 2014

He could have come upon a cloud,

To wreak His wrath upon a wrongful crowd.

But on an ass He made His way

That we may know His peace on this our day

Ageing

My sight declines but still the sky is wide.

As sense decays my joys more keenly grow.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

I heard the thrush and robin as they cried.

I glory in the flowers that briefly glow.

My sight declines but still the sky is wide

 

Abroad I went and England I decried.

Now it’s a source of subtle, joys I know.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

The print grows small and letters seem to hide.

The stars grow few like words and facts I know.

My sight declines but still the sky is wide

 

In friends I little knew I now confide

As children of my children I watch grow.

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified.

 

As into hateful, age, unstopped I slide

To old familiar, simple things I go

My sight declines, but still the sky is wide

Mundane, unnoticed things are sanctified

 

Peter M. Grinham 23^rd April 2015