Loughed

Loughed

 

 

Autumnal bliss

No better than this

A walk, a kiss

Light in the abyss

 

A tide, a seal

The finest meal

Hand in hand

Eternal as sand

 

A race, a train

Time no reign

A seat with my lover

There is no other

 

A reaching hand

With no demand

That time on the lough

No measure for a clock

 

Bard in a Churchyard

In a Churchyard

Blossom and birdsong

In a place as this

With another in spirit
No less than bliss

Contemplating sense

Soothing and peace

Words with a guardian

One Louis MacNeice

The sun dares to shine

Lighting granite without

Whispers of green

From a bard no doubt

A hard swirling world

Becomes settled and still

Enduring love shall abide

By that church on the hill