A walk in the Mountains

Mountain fog

The cloud creeps down the mountainside 

Belly to the ground, as though sniffing its prey. 

Nothing is sacred; nothing is safe 

From the cold, damp fogginess of its intrusion, 

Penetrating every crack and crevice;

A pervading darkness and dankness. 

The warm air holds its breath, prescient

Of its obliteration, as it capitulates 

To condensation and the first drizzle

Transpires as from the ground

Precipitating a cold and vicious, 

Slapping rain, that soaks to the core. 

For now, the cloud has won, but we shall

Look for the sun and the rainbow to come.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

Daily Prompt: It came from the east

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It came from the East: this huge raging beast

Shrieking through crevices of rock.

It whipped up huge  waves

In mountains and swirls.

Crashed into the coast and the caves.

It churned  the sea bed;

Tore the beach to a shred

Gathering shingle and stones

It  spit back.

It shattered the cliffs

And gnawed at the shore

Receding …….

Then breaking once more

Rhythmically pounding

The surf ever sounding

A barrage penetrating

Your core.

Poem and photo copyright to Englepip©

 

via Daily Prompt: Churn

Daily Prompt: The Power of Steam

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” Efficiency is the ratio of useful work to resources  expended. In other words, the ratio of the output to the input of a given system.”

 

They say  steam engines were

Really  inefficient.

Yet they worked and so

Were icons of their time.

 

Their powerful engines hissed

As their gliding pistons swished

And the big wheels steadily turned

Upon the line.

 

Journeying far ‘cross country

Along parallel lines of  track

Their smokestacks burning brightly

There and back.

 

Generations mourn their passing

And old engines they have rescued

Recombining, reassembling

All from the scrap.

 

They hammer and they chisel

Blacksmithing with a sizzle

Engineering perfect pieces

Of great size.

 

And when the engine’s  finished

They admire her in her glory

Resurrected into power

To run once more.

 

Then the new steam comes a-fizzing,

From the smoke-stack wildly hissing

And along the lines it’s whizzing

Inefficient maybe yes.

 

But do we care?

 

For that  old engine it is running

And faithfully it is pulling

Is it not a most amazing sight to see?

 

And to smell the soot and grime

Feel the rhythm of the line

Is a special thing for all,

 

Especially me.

 

Poem and photo copyright to Englepip©

 

 

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Inefficient