Ok, so I wrote this poem during our recent holiday.
St. Aidan in Cornwall, 2013 A.D.
At first all is still
But I linger, and I linger more until -
Life begins to seep,
Draws my eyes from former asphalt sleep,
Wooed awake by dreams.
Two doves dart from a green quiver
Cabbage whites flicker to the flowers
Swooping gulls peck pickings in the brown ploughed field -
As the day breathes its last, long sigh.
What Way of Life; what Call
Could grasp this playful peace,
This teeming tranquility?
Could my Celtic feet tramp the deeps of England
And ring again
The soft urgency of the Gospel bell?
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