And comes a snow white blanket dawn around the Garnock way across the darkened thoughts of man a Love at break of day And o´er the bogs and hills there´s ice the cows they gently cower a voice says “Man with all your cares be still for just an hour” The darkened views of waning health exchanged for winter cheer the snow reflects a gentle calm upon the town so dear And on the braes the deer are seen walking proudly by no man can touch their safety now upon their mountain high Upon the tombs of rested men lies layers of icy sense reflecting that the One great Mind preserves their innocence O the Love that comes to Man and all that went before with coal fires, spades and gas lamplight the steel work furnace roared Now with vision double glazed with houses big and warm we still declare it's not enough to get us through the morn Demanding more at every turn it gently takes us higher looking towards a Higher sense than simply vain desire
Poems
The River Garnock at Grahamston Avenue #poem
Flowing to a land of peace We watch her gentle stream Old Churches, schools ravished by time Reflect her gentle beams. Starry nights and sun-filled days Upon her granite poised Where children played upon the bridge O´er shadowed now with noise. Yet peace she brings with every stone Where faltering birds do nest And otters with their children come To take their peace and rest. In her divine appointed flow Fear leaves no saddened thoughts For change is named upon her brow With no heightened sense of loss. And by her banks sweet angels flow Attending to their wards while we stand upon the bridge alone With only darker thoughts. Yet sweet repose and Love are here For all who hear her song Far away from bills to pay And every sense of wrong. Her gentle flowing higher streams Do guide us in our thoughts to a peaceful place of mind flowing o´er the darker rocks. ´Tis good for us to stop and hear Her gentle peaceful flow While Angels pass with quieter thoughts Allowing us to grow.
And what of Love? Poem
And what of Love?
And what of Love in brightest days
With illumined lofty shafts
And brings provision, gives us air,
To work our human crafts.
And heightened strains so sweet and low.
Upon the leaves and trees.
And brightens every young man’s heart from sickness and disease.
And on it’s wings white feathers seen
Of purity and graces
Rising higher in our thoughts.
From darkened mortal places.
And where it dwells upon the heart
With joyful power and praise.
We look to it to guide us home.
In every human way.
Poem: The Stranger
Why search upon the mines of time Both future and the past Why cry with bitter tearful eyes For paradises lost? What find ye in the darkest caves In shafts of darkened thoughts Where fears of death and earthly work Become your only lot? And as the loom of human mind Does weave its saddened thoughts There comes a Stranger to our sphere A message he has brought And with his lamplight on the walls The shadows are displaced No more the fears of darkened years Our minds do penetrate A light of Everlasting Laws Eternal, sweet and strong Daily shines into our thoughts Transforming right from wrong And as we learn to trust his Light In daily paths we tread We leave the world of shadowed dreams For "God with us" instead When we leave the world of dreams Like Angel's rising thoughts Glimpses of Divinity and Holiness are caught Caverns full of blackened coal No more dark and cruel Are stars upon infinite skies As sparkling shining jewels
The Light
O the Light which shines on man,
Breaking through his darker thoughts,
Revealing Love of another kind,
And peace.
Dancing in the sky,
Like two dolphins jumping in the sea,
Beauty taking us to another place.
And peace.
Like a comet shooting through our thoughts.
A light turned on,
And Peace.
Poem About The Bing (Fudstone, Kilbirnie)
The bing was a huge mound of gravel and stone which was left there after the housing estate was built in the 1950s. It was replaced with a kids play area in the 1980s. The other Warriors bing in the Largs Hills was presumably called that because of where the Battle of Largs took place,
O the years upon the bing, with cousin Margaret children played,
Climbing up with all our power by Newhouse drive where people stayed,
Amid the thorns and grey cement there seemed a moment, time well spent,
And sliding down the gravel slope, I skinned my knees without a hope,
My grannie waiting at the door, with borax, plasters by the score.
O the hills we thought were steep, when now an older life we keep,
Mountains, slopes upon our minds, perhaps a bing of different kind,
Climbing o’er our darker thoughts, just like the thistles we did trod,
Lessons from the bing well learnt, of my granny’s soothing balm
O how that Love returns to me, and brings with it a sense of calm,
And behind the trees sat Warrior’s bing, perhaps a sign of future years,
With bigger slopes and hills to climb amid the darker fading years.
Paisley Abbey New Minister Installation October 2021
A poem for the Installation of the New Minister Elspeth McKay.
The first Abess in Cloister´s grove, forcing change as Love demands
The poisoned chalice passed in sight, yet Love demands she does not drink.
Continue reading “Paisley Abbey New Minister Installation October 2021”