And comes a pure white blanket laid around the river Cart Across the darkened thoughts of man a Love which does impart And o´er the bogs and swamps there´s ice up to the Abbey door 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 For 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
Tag: paisley
Snow in Paisley December 2020
And comes a pure white blanket laid
around the river Cart
Across the darkened thoughts of man
a Love which does impart
And o´er the bogs and swamps there´s ice
up to the Abbey door
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
For 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
For Paisley and it’s Places
Perhaps upon the River Cart or by its dwindling streams
We feel a heart that’s beating power without another means
A power that turns the waiting tide and waters plants and flowers
Turning students to their books in every waitng hour
A power that lights the morning dawn and dusk a gentle glow
A power that hold each swan intact as waters gently flow
A guiding light which simply “Is” with no demands on man
While preachers loudly scream and shout that all the folk are damned
A power that needs no words nor praise to move within it’s place
For it has the world for man to feel it’s gentle guiding pace
And if by chance an apple tree should spring in Barshaw Park
Or nestling feathers after flight, you see a morning lark
Look upon its shining beak or feathers black and pure
Worship not the image, mind, but the power that it endures
And when the apple tree no more, holds up it’s greenish fruit
Look toward the power in Life for all things absolute
Only the real stands up to time, with majesty and robes
All else disappears from sight, with pain and anxious throws
And so the real in everything is found not in the clay
But in the power of Life itself which opens up the day
Dwell not in things which are not real but look behind the eyes
There you find the real idea of all that Love implies
The Waiting Hour – A Sunset in Paisley
Oh the joy of the waiting hour at sunset, upon the White Cart as she shines her yellow light to say goodnight
Another moon comes and shines on the same river, like two old men, never to meet.
The hours pass and the children play and scream, while the ghosts of the Abbey chants of the night still heard, yet unheard.
The Town Hall clock lends its eyes and chimes the 9th hour,
The young men stumble home from the pub and the old men light up their cigarettes for their walk home.
faded memories of Victorians in shaded statues, casting long shadows and tales.
Laus Deo – it is done, and higher we are lifted.
A Poem for Paisley
The Threads of Paisley
If all the threads that Paisley made were found again one day
I’d hang them in the sky with Love to take away the grey
Upon the gold I’d write a tale of stories from our past
About the folk we´ve lost in time that’s moved away so fast.
Upon the red I’d see the war and all the men who died
I’d write the names of all their wives whose tears we left behind
Upon the Abbey darkened threads of blackened thoughts and times
A bygone age of killing folk for witchcraft and false crimes.
Threads of blue I’d give to schools, to teach them peace and Love
By leaving parts of history, while rainbows hang above
Upon the green, the Irish woe, migration, war and fear
While London pushes migrants out with hatred causing tears.
Upon the white I’d ask the kids to write their stories clear
To fill the sky with hopes and dreams of music for our ears
Upon this richest tapestry I’d paint a heart and crown
To show the world the triumphs of dear Paisley, my sweet town.
Its great to see the #sunshine #paisley
