Long Lake district Poems
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Take Me There
Take me to the place where it’s broadly known
In meadows and woods famous poets roamed
Where hosts of blithe yellow daffodils dance
In expectation of budding romance.
To view magnificent mountains and lakes
And spectacular countryside landscapes
In hopefulness that it all will inspire
My muse to explode alike a drumfire.
The Lake District I will visit one day
There’s so much to view and do on a stay
Such serenity and astounding grace
Is found in Cumbria’s stunning showplace.
*+*+*
9th January 2023
Take Me There Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
The waters sparkle in the sun
as the breeze lifts across the lake
the yachts settle in their berth
looking out as it stands abrake
The skies show its beauty
in the morn revealing pastel blue
as waters show it's stillness
to be as creation intended so true
The ducks sail through the waters
creating more than a little wave
birds fly in the horizon
such loveliness one needs to save
Looking high up to the hills
shows the greenery of it's landscape
words can't describe such a picture
your eyes are bewildered by it's shape
The trees across the lake
fills your view with such splendour
completes the full picture you see
summing up the creator's perfect agenda
The agenda makes all things perfect
in the eternal God's appropriate time
showing His perfect sovereign control
making all things beautifully sublime
AUTHOR NOTES: Just some thoughts on a weekend stay on Lake Windermere on England's lake district a few weeks ago waking up from my bedroom window looking across the lake.
Here in the midst of summer
surrounded by the lakeland feels
what glory to look out upon
makes one cry out to tell
There's a stillness in the air
so silent, one can hardly hear
the sun shines through the clouds
warms the air, listen in your ear
Often you feel like wandering
taking in all that's freshly new
this is a beautiful creation, you see
divinely born, you see right on cue
This is indeed a wonder of wonders
one has to be still to take it in
on the first day, when Adam fell
what God had made is marred by sin
Pray to be taken to that original
that first moment so real in time
when all was just perfectly sublime
dream on and feel it in its prime
(Just some thoughts spending in the English Lake District a few weeks ago.)
O to be in England
in the early days of spring
when the golden daffodils
steal the heart and make it sing.
Roaming the Lake District
far away from urban noise,
by cascading waterfalls
enamoured of nature’s voice.
Up the craggy mountains
or on hills in shades of green,
watch the sun as down it slides
veiling tarns with sanguine sheen.
O to be there with you
holding hands in amber light
basked in aural twilight field;
daylight melting into night.
Fireflies or fairies
My mind cannot well discern.
Feelings surge within my soul,
Nature sighs with me and yearns.
Time and breath both bated
as your lips touch mine with bliss;
stars aflutter, for they know
Love is born with your sweet kiss.
A Callman Collaboration (Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian)
O to be in England
in the early days of spring
when the golden daffodils
steal the heart and make it sing.
Roaming the Lake District
far away from urban noise,
by cascading waterfalls
enamoured of nature’s voice.
Up the craggy mountains
or on hills in shades of green,
watch the sun as down it slides
veiling tarns with sanguine sheen.
O to be there with you
holding hands in amber light
basked in aural twilight field;
daylight melting into night.
Fireflies or fairies
My mind cannot well discern.
Feelings surge within my soul,
Nature sighs with me and yearns.
Time and breath both bated
as your lips touch mine with bliss;
stars aflutter, for they know
Love is born with your sweet kiss.
-------------------------------------
A Callman Collaboration (Paul Callus and Eileen Manassian)
In my New York suburb, I’m mildly fond
Of Helvellyn Road, and Gracemere pond
But the original Helvellyn called...
Ravenglass too, even the name enthralled.
Of Lake poets, I eagerly read
And I found what Alfred Wainright once said:
[chorus]
His words echo across time’s bridge
That always there will be the lonely ridge,
the silent forest, the dancing beck
Though we have fleeting time on a cosmic speck.
Wordsworth thought the loveliest spot ever found
was near Grasmere Lake so I walked it around.
I beat the crowd to the top of Scafell Pike
Saw crags on all sides, what not to like?
Saw the Mourne mountains across the Irish sea
Snowdonia in Wales, steeped in history.
Wordsworth liked walking when mists veiled the sky,
Mists add variety, they distort, they magnify.
Hugging emerald meadows and tarns and becks
The mist lifts, to glorious backdrop effects.
I've often gone to where the grapevine led,
And I remembered what Wordsworth said:
[chorus]
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
than all the sages can.
I'd like to be on an airy ridge, seeing far
It would be cool to climb steps up a limestone scar
then stride to a big-sky panorama
Maybe join a fell runner, in nature's drama.
Follow Wordsworth where the rugged trail led
Recite once more what the poet said:
[chorus]
A deep delight the bosom thrills
Of these fraternal hills:
On top stones like bones the earth left alone,
But on those stones lichen has grown
Colored between the rocks and sky
The Lake District kind of high.
At the foot of Saddleback, while its brow appeared
A sad purple before cloud-shadow cleared
To the left I saw the jaws of Borrowdale
On the pure lake a standing man with a windswept sail.
There’s a confession I should make
The trip to Cumbria I could not take
I could only watch videos on my PC
Experiencing the region vicariously.
I make room in my mental space
For the good times of those who visit the lakes.
I think of sunset on a ridge, a hiker’s face aglow,
And that somewhere this exists is comforting to know.
An imagined eyrie where spirits fly
And fell runners reach that Lake District high.
Over many years of great holidays
to the English lakes we would go
never a year passed always be there
such beauty around, inspired pen to flow
Many a time we would think wishing
of moving to English lake district so good
this would be a dream miles too far
the cost far too high, oh if we only could!
Dreamt often when on lakeside walk
stopped at cottage on the lake so awesome
this would be heaven indeed to live there
especially when the flowers would blossom
We would sometimes rent a cottage
just for week to feel what it be like
live in a cottage so lovely and bright
beautiful thoughts filled every sight
But reality came home to roost
it's not to be for us anyway
so the good Lord knows our needs
that's sufficient for here we stay
(Just thinking back to Christine and my unfulfilled dreams of living in the English lake district but it was not to be so content ourselves in God's goodness to us where we are now. )
He was a wandering man that travelled many miles
staying a few days here and there, sometimes a week or two
then his feet would get that familiar itch and on he'd go
searching new horizons for his elusive dream.
A lady in every town he visited, sighed, when he travelled on
although he found them all enchanting, with none could he settle
the call of the road was just too strong and those feet would itch
wondrous sights he found as the roads led him ever onwards.
In the lake district he loved the open spaces and towering hills
the sparkling lakes that nestled like gems at their feet
the air that invigorated his soul with its fresh crispness
to here he often returned and just soaked in the beauty.
In the peaks he found a place from which seven counties were visible
finding out it was for sale, he laid down his money and the deal was done
a simplistic house he built made of cobb and oak that blended into the hills
yet still those feet would itch and off he once more would go.
The years passed by; often he returned for a month or two
he found he was getting slower and inclined to linger in places longer
then one day on the road he caught up to a fellow traveller
that night they lingered around a camp fire sharing stories.
Oh the stories they both had could fill several books with wondrous memories
she had been travelling for 30 years he a bit longer, yet until now
never with another, both had always been solitary by choice
he took her to his home in the dales and shortly after they wed
Still every two to three months they would share a glance
and each would know the others feet felt that age old itch
so forth they would set off to discover new horizons once more
safe in the knowledge they had each other and their cottage awaiting their return
This has such a hold on one's mind
it holds you still with mouth open wide
the autumn colours are so breathtaking
this is beauty sublime makes one abide
It brings such glorious memories to me
years ago spent an autumn week in the lakes
there in English lake district at Rydal water
looking out at breakfast having corn flakes
On the lake was astounded by the view
it looked like glass covered sea
such colouring blew the mind away
one just is stilled relaxed and free
This has also such a crystal effect
water unmoved for it shows the power
it says don't dare come near me
the rule is mine showing like any flower
These trees make the perfect contrast
with the waters scene so astounding
this is a picture you want to keep
view it at your leisure but never doubting
(Memories of an autumn holiday at Rydal water in English Lake District)
Such a beautiful picture scene
so many lovely colours for the eye
full of splendour and light
what a view for the birds in sky
This is nature showing itself true
God’s creation painted by His hand
such skill with touches so sublime
one only looks in awesome stand
The blueness of the colourful water
shows a deepness of it’s very own
the surrounding woodland so green
makes your mind so utterly blown
It’s a mirror of the surrounding landscape
as the waters show a sea of glass
one looks aghast at this sheer beauty
what can one say this is sheer class
(writing as as I was looking over Rydal water in Lake District in Northern England when stopped the car to take in the beautiful view spending couple days there last week.)