Tag: 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.

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.

Poem for #Kilbirnie

Perhaps nearby the Walker Hall or up at Jacob´s well

a random act of kindness comes from strangers who can tell?

Perhaps a gentle smile when all is grey and bland

A man in Tesco car park, who gives a helping hand?

The face of God is ne´er seen by looking to the sky

or pleading with an unseen God to ask the question “why”

But in the smaller random acts, of hope and gentle charm

Music springs from little things which keep us from all harm

And if by chance we cannot see the goodness in Schoolwynd

Let us play the Harp we think is somehow left behind

From Cochrane Street to  Loadingbank it doesn´t take a while

to offer random kindness acts or give a sincere smile

He does not see the cries and woes of bitter words well meant

He does not know the mental wounds of times much better spent

He knows only Peace and Love and wholeness of our Soul

Far above the human clouds where Man is free to Go

In Glasgow Street or Ladeside Vale, perhaps in Dalry Road

A Mind can freely choose to live in  mental sweet abode

Far above the darting arrows, foes and kin at war

There is a place, another Mind for mankind to explore

Found in silence, ne´er in hate, a Harp string sound does come

Taking man to far above from words and human glum

If Angel´s are His thoughts indeed of swirling pools of Love

Let them take us anytime to consciousness above.

In silence comes the lyre harp of goodness Peace and Love

A state of mind but Heaven is, so take yourself above

To where no siblings voices fight or hatred´s idle dreams

Free yourself from earthly ties however fair they seem

An Unfinished Poem,

Gently on piano keys or,
strung upon the harp,
strummed upon the guitar strings or
words said from the heart,

A colder breeze in winter time
or withered flowerless briar
all are made to break your dreams
and draw your thoughts much higher

An Ocean beach in times more calm
At home with people stern
A tempest storm or healing balm
Higher thoughts that you must learn

Ne´er upon life´s empty shores
no matter how it seems
For going to reach a better place
you have to break the dream

A #poem about the mountains around the #Garnock Valley #northayrshire

A poem about the mountains around the Garnock Valley north ayrshire
Some days the mountains speak to me
defending Truth and Love
like Angels climbing Jacob´s Ladder
to and from Above

With thoughts so clear and brightly shining
fields of grass and green
stretching to horizon´s line
and farms lying in between

Other days the mountains seem
an obstacle of view
which stop me seeing o´er the sky
and leave me feeling blue

Tis these weeks the hardest are
when shadows mark my way
when people´s words like arrows fly
and hinder all my days

To search for good in every thought
dispels the darkest night
for through the words and tempers flared
lie Angels in disguise

To take us higher in our thought
to bless us every day
find the Love in everyone
it is the only way.

Poem for Hugh

This poem was written to remember Hugh “Curly” Brannan, an elderly #Kilbirnie man 1912-1990

No Internet nor mobile phone
Just Sitting by the view
His bible held fast in his hands
This was dear old Hugh

A sweat bead forms upon his brow
Complains about the heat
Drinks another cup of tea
And stares down at his feet

With a creed unshakable
He reads another line
Whilst shuffling his greying hands
comes tales of older times

Yearning thoughts of his dear wife
Guided by Psalmist´s tears
Here sat a man with watered eyes
Memories of blessed years

And comes a thought of happiness
Of meeting her and friends
On shores afar, his mind does go
and finds his time well spent

Guided by the written Word
He went on Wisdom´s way
He gave triumph to the Truth
His fears did melt away

May our gaze be ever dear
to Principle held true
living always by our Faith
Just like my dear friend Hugh

Poem for Arran and the Holy Isle

Oh draw near, Great Love Divine,  and sooth my waiting mind.

Whiting Bay and Holy Isle, surely all are thine, within my heart appears the long forgotten saints.

Passing holy hours, like a tired monk I wait to find you in the maze of liturgies and pathways.

My naked head does burn, like earthly passions turn, to a higher calling, to vistas set eternal.

With a yearning voice so strong, I turn to what I long, to find my peace in thee.

May the mountains of the isles teach me humility of heart, to see beyond the peaks of shortcomngs to higher views of Love.

The sweeping vistas of Love, higher than the highest peak, swirling winds appear.

The joy of meeting departed ones, to commune again on the shores of thine Isles, I wait, I come.

 

 

Poem about Kilbirnie #NorthAyrshire: The Mossend Mine

The Mossend Mine

While walking near the Mossend mine
I chanced upon a flower
I stopped and stared at beauty spent
and passed away the hour

Her leaves were yellow daffodils
where bees would pass the time
watching men go underground
While entering the mine

Her stem did sway with summer breeze
she slumbered on the brink
like a burdened miner walks
whilst thirsting for a drink

Suddenly a voice I heard
transported back in time
young men with blackened faces walked
deep inside that mine

Awaking, flowers, buttercups
Blessed me on my way
Whilst haunting thoughts of distant past
I carried through my day

So if a flower does call you back
to places, lands of yore,
dwell not in the realm of dreams
take only what is yours

Perhaps your flower is yet to come
in mountain, thoughts or clime
ne’er mind the times of centuries old
now is your only time