Reflections

When I stare out across the wide salt flats
I count my blessings, from a life so full
I’ve seen so much of beauty unsurpassed
In hills and dales; and becks that trickle past;
Of lakes that gleam with orange sunset light
Or slow appear from out a mist at dawn
From hills all bronzed with bracken-coloured growth
And crags dramatic grey in slanting rain.
I’ve heard the birdsong in the green hedgerow
And listened as the buzzard keens her call
Crossed hillsides where the sheep bleat all the day
Smelled garlic wild along the woodland way.
Although my body now is rather frail,
I see and hear and scent as on the trail,
For senses come to life each live long day
As the river washes all my cares away.
She stops in shallows near my wooden seat
Reflecting all that’s past just at my feet
I ponder on the waters on the sand
And know from these reflections from above
That heaven for me, is very close at hand.


Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

I wrote this poem after visiting Arneside and Silverdale, which is close to the Lake District in the UK, where I have spend many holidays. The Lake District is one of the prime hiking locations in the UK famed for its wonderful combination of mountains and lakes. Arneside and Silverdale is nearby and in fact you can see the hills in the distance from there but the river is the main attraction here. As we walked along the riverside, there were elderly couples sitting and reflecting and taking in the sunset. I imagined the thoughts of one gentleman there as he sat with his walking stick deep in thought.

The Glory of Autumn

River in shadow, twisting through banks ablaze
With the russets and reds, ambers and apricots
Wealth of nature, invested in gold,
Dropping to earth.

Autumn light and low sun reflecting in water
A landscape of stillness and quiet moments before
Winter storms and cold freezing skies strip
The branches bare.

Creation in temperate lands at its
Most magical,
Most colourful,
Most glowing
In glory at its death.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

Daily Prompt: River

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Photo of Cuckmere Haven

From hill to vale to sea

The water entrances me

Swift spring, deep pools

It runs from village to field

Then suddenly sluggish

It takes a weary turn

And meanders across the land

A silver snake,

Shy of meeting its bigger self.

 

Words and photo copyright Englepip©

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Meander