From ‘Marque’

Look up and See

The waves come rushing with their arched wall of power.
No earthly flight will carry you to safety.
Fill these moments with joy and wonderment,
while closing your ears to the deafening frenzy.
Look up and see the serenity above,
of shapes and colour no other eyes have discovered.
They hover and glide, as if forever,
their majestic movements, practised to perfection.
All as one, like floating geishas across a stage.
A choreographed festival, of light, colour and shapes.

Feel the gentleness wash over you.

© Marque 2010

Memories

Dawn gently rises from its distant pew.
The bright stars of the night dissolve from view.
A kaleidoscope of pastels, and shades, so pure,
appear and morph, while lifted by invisible hands.

Soon the rays will kindle maternity,
from the vapours of their eternity.
Close your eyes, carry the picture to your soul,
recalling the shapes, colours, horizon and burning light.

Now feel the warmth of the sun on your face,
while your feet stand in an icy place.
Slowly, open your eyes and wonder at the subtleties of change.
Those who looked with vacant stare, that earlier moment is lost.

For you, the beauty and emotion are now caste in your mind.
Forever, to recall at will.

© Marque 2010

A walk with my ‘Boy’

The wind is cold and gentle.
Storms chase the unprepared.
Like many a time the sky is two,
as though a mirror of the landscape below.
To the West a great sea flows to unknown shores,
of a blue mirroring the firmament above.
To the East a mysterious horizon before the rising moors,
with a bank of cloud, until overhead.

We leave our carriage, walking together
along a lane where the view is forever.
All compass points stretch by three leagues with the eye.
You stop to look and turning your heel,
there’s too much to see, I stumble and reel.

To the North a vivid rainbow pillar grows,
from out of the sea, of strength and vigour.
I cannot move. I look down at my boy in his own reverie.
He is watching the rabbits as they abound.
We share a silent word, turn and walk West.
Before my feet the land disappears, a roar ascending, danger impending.
Before my eyes a tranquil sea with hidden yolks of strength,
lit with a radiance from the heavens above.

Turning south with a titled head
to watch the sun preparing for bed.
Among its downy pillows so deep,
with its light expired, it’s fallen asleep.
My boy so joyful, a flightless bird.
We join and turn without saying a word

To the North and East the galleons grow ashen.
Their edges painted by the sun’s glowing hearth.
We quicken our pace; we are the quarry of a chase.
A storm, dressed as a willow tree closing to our heels.
Chilled, but dry, we return to our shelter.

Now home we go; what an adventure.

© Marque 2010

To be blessed

Who is more blessed than I?
I delight at the blue of a sky
more than a sky that is blue.
Embracing nature’s glories; what else is their to do?

Who is more blessed than we?
Earth has more beauty than an eye can see.
From the flowing waves in fields of rye,
to the billowing sails across the sky.

© Marque 2010

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