More pond-ering
it laps around stones and the roots of old trees;
reflections reach out but never quite meet
over its sleek and silver surface.
The Black Loch harbours the truth of glances
we can't help flicking through her defences
as we wander her margins and ponder
the deeps beneath us we'll never quite master.
What is it that draws us to drift and dream?
What is it that's under that cold, cold mantle,
where the world we all know struggles to hold,
where the heart of us reaches for revelation?
The ocean unbounded connects us somehow,
yet we nestle alone, shadowed by shadow.
15 06 07
Poetry by jim hogg
Read 556 times
Written on 2008-12-31 at 16:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
By The Black Loch
Bordered by shadows whose edges we skirtit laps around stones and the roots of old trees;
reflections reach out but never quite meet
over its sleek and silver surface.
The Black Loch harbours the truth of glances
we can't help flicking through her defences
as we wander her margins and ponder
the deeps beneath us we'll never quite master.
What is it that draws us to drift and dream?
What is it that's under that cold, cold mantle,
where the world we all know struggles to hold,
where the heart of us reaches for revelation?
The ocean unbounded connects us somehow,
yet we nestle alone, shadowed by shadow.
15 06 07
Poetry by jim hogg
Read 556 times
Written on 2008-12-31 at 16:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text