Array ( [sid] => 175360 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Ripples on the water [time] => 2013-03-06 12:43:19 [hometext] => Regarding a recent extended weekend holiday at Loch Ness. [bodytext] =>

''What a beautiful morning'' someone chimes
as I step outside for my first cig with my first coffee.
I can still feel the snugness of my recently vacated bed,
but frailties have to be catered for.

We're housed at the top of a mountain;
the sun dazzles and glistens,
feigning an impending warmth
over a frost-covered Devonian-shaped Highland landscape.

There, stretched out before me
the eternal attraction for believers and non-believers;
the Loch of Lochs - the Ness,
the Scottish crown jewel of myth, or of monster.

I stand there shivering;
in awe of its beauty, its grandeur,
its magic, its magnetism,
and its secrets (if there are any).

I think of nearby Urquhart Castle
that stands by the loch's edge.
If only its ancient walls could talk,
or are they also part of a silent collusion.

Wondering and pondering.
Then - ripples on the water
and suddenly I'm fully alert ....

.... I can smell breakfast.


[comments] => 7 [counter] => 266 [topic] => 18 [informant] => spud [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Holiday Poetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Ripples on the water


Ripples on the water
Date: Wednesday, 6th March 2013 @ 12:43:19 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: spud


''What a beautiful morning'' someone chimes
as I step outside for my first cig with my first coffee.
I can still feel the snugness of my recently vacated bed,
but frailties have to be catered for.

We're housed at the top of a mountain;
the sun dazzles and glistens,
feigning an impending warmth
over a frost-covered Devonian-shaped Highland landscape.

There, stretched out before me
the eternal attraction for believers and non-believers;
the Loch of Lochs - the Ness,
the Scottish crown jewel of myth, or of monster.

I stand there shivering;
in awe of its beauty, its grandeur,
its magic, its magnetism,
and its secrets (if there are any).

I think of nearby Urquhart Castle
that stands by the loch's edge.
If only its ancient walls could talk,
or are they also part of a silent collusion.

Wondering and pondering.
Then - ripples on the water
and suddenly I'm fully alert ....

.... I can smell breakfast.




This poem is Copyright © spud


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