whispered love




Some poems communicate a lot of feeling and you can see a few of my favourites, by various authors, here. I write poems myself, simply out of delight in the world God has given us, and I don't pretend my poems are anything other than rather personal expressions of feeling and wonder. You can read a few here if you like, and this one is fairly typical:


The Quiet Ones


It is that time of year again,

When the deer steal silently down from the mountain,

The frosts descending to the foot of the glen,

Earth hard like iron under a starry sky.


In summer they run so wild on the heights,

Their dun flanks merging with the slopes of the hill,

Gracious company of fleet-footed ones,

Lovely as the sun-streaked heather on a day of showers,

Pretty as the speckled trout in the shining stream.


But tonight I see them across the darkening acres,

Still in the dusk, their eyes gleaming

In the headlights of an approaching car

That sweeps past and is gone

In the consuming darkness and still evening.


Here in the deep winter,

They come foraging,

They wait for the distant spring to return once more,

They are quiet as a moonlit night.




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