My first poem about a country stile!

I shut my eyes, and lingered a while,
Detached from bodily form
To dwell upon the words that formed
A poem about a country stile.

The grain was gnarled and knot protruding,
Weathered old and standing proud
Like a lonely aged war torn soldier
A history witnessed and life concluding.

The brush swept land of gold and green
The emerald grass and hill of grain.
Across the land and ghostly page
This virgin tale of where I’d been.

Each step toward this friend of mine
The view his gift to me
Was painted on a page in words
And with the page did intertwine.

With opened eyes, I stopped a while,
And wished to see my country stile.
I wish for the gift of sight for me,
But darkness is all I see.

This is my first fictitious poem about a fictitious scene turned into a first fictitious poem by a fictitious blind man! I joke, but my sentiment is heartfelt and I do believe it is very sad that someone who is blind cannot see the beautiful sights I have seen in the countryside around us today. Poem written as the result of a prompt about ‘first times’ by dverse pots pub.


stained glass eyes.

My physical form was
Suspended in surface tension;

And my spirit floated
On heaven’s eternal waters;

Admiring God’s design
Mouth a forbidden worship;

Mezmerised by whispered prayer,
Like dust captured in a sun beam.

Words as sweet as wine
Washed a blessing over me.

There sits an open book
Seen through stained glass eyes;

With lines too small to read-
A story I shall never know;

Offered up to heaven
In the closing of a door.

My Divine Sun

She is the sun and I the earth.

At the centre, through mathematical

Unconscious precision, chaotic accidental collision.

Particles of endless time attached

Through an infinite love;

Attracted by incomprehensible forces of nature.

She is me, and I her; my unpredictable accomplice.

Ninety million miles apart

But her touch is ever present.

She has sustained me from before time;

With her immeasurable power and energy.

She is the light on my face, the smile in my soul

And the fearsome forces flowing through my heart.

My Amazon, my Nile.

Our love is beyond time, outside of time

A different understanding of time;

On a scale immeasurable by

The science of men searching for ‘truth.’

Her light, my darkness, me, you-

Revolving, evolving, glowing, growing-

Hot, cold, smiling, raging,

Saving, destroying, healing, breaking,

Learning and teaching.

Dance in her light, like me

Victim of her inescapable beauty.

I am eternally transfixed, sustained,

Passionately grateful for our accidental bond.

(C) 2011. Andrew Grant. All right reserved.