Long Rills Poems

VIII

In the minds fixed eye I see five newly discovered graves,              
Headless lions sat atop an impregnable "Triumphal Gate";   ...

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The Lonely Lark

                                ...

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A meadow for Autumn

Forest, I lay me down to rest
upon bed of moss.
 
Eternal sleep immediately overtakes me 
lichen kenning myself 
as Rip Van Winkle 
except being repurposed
as  oldest living species. 

With an estimated...

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Wednesday, September 2021 at 3:20 PM...
eastern standard time Autumn Equinox arrives

That seasonal occasion twill arise
when darkness and light doth bring
equilibrium between night and day
raking leaves will constitute exercise
espied and witnessed by observant earthling
namely me who...

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"Painting is silent poetry and poetry is painting that speaks" _ Greek philosopher, Plutarch

O hearts  that breathe with nature breath! 
O eyes that dipped in heaven's wine! 
O souls in world of pain who...

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Forth from the heaven, from the misty moorlands of all sacred woodland greens,
drop by drop by striking the pebbles and untouched vegetations oozes, 
the intoning hallowed water of evergreen woods' crystal cascades, brooks and streams.
to...

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A light - beyond bright -
beckons me warmly
from a place beyond which I cannot yet see.
As I approach a stairway which glistens like gold,
all my former burdens and apprehensions melt away.
Body aches have vanished and...

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Yspirfal across the sky
Awake now with a loving light
For I have summoned thee with song
And I have shaped thee to belong
In facets of eternal night
Where alor hath made the dim seem bright
Hyspirfael there beams a...

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when eve doth fall upon summers’ end, 
   a hint of splendor bequeathed arose
upon firmament as changed scenery 
   (this third equinox act since new year) bellows
basses loaded and blasted in...

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A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting...

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" Imagine a place where there is beauty, bliss and plentifulness for all. It is nothing short of utopia. Though we are far from realizing it, isn't it thrilling to imagine a version of the...

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Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing...

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Have seen an utopian lane, amidst the thicket, latent In the abode of the clouds, in the lap of  the tranquil wilderness, far far away from the mundane mist! 
A  wheezing sparsely inhabited...

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(sung – in a round pussy willow warble - to the tune of -- 
Oh Where Oh Where has my little dog gone)

With a flam boy hunt deft jais nais sais quois 
firm lickey split...

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Cloaking misty hills and many a deep valley floor: 
The empty Moor presents an outlook, stoical and dour.
Seemingly barren, this mute guardian of history,
Emits an air of arcane intrigue and darkest mystery.

Stunted Jack Pines, seen...

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In the moonlit night of dreams, 
on the maiden voyage of supreme grandeur, 
destiny weaves in the arctic waters a tragic tale. 
As I stand on the sinking Titanic deck,
and hear the symphony of despair,
the...

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For all the night she trod the furrowed earth
As she has walked all winter in her wake
In seeking for the child she brought to birth
The maiden bride whom Hades chose to take


The gibbous moon is...

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On the woolly folds of sleep, I sailed to a place
Where thoughts and fancy made an alliance
A place that never existed anywhere on the Earth 
And never seen or glimpsed by any human eyes	

Before me,...

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again …

here I am -
a glum ghost
a somber shadow
I have come to dream

to pledge duty, your gleam
to venerate your foreday liturgy
ah, and mend the mist - the magical mist
another mercurial morn creature such as we

ever...

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               I'm lost at sea and weary
          so tossed upon the tides
...

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Cloud of despair drifted in the seamless sky of sorrow, 
storm surged from the dismal horizon of mind’s visage, 
melted in many streamlets of tear to torrentially flow, 
like the rolling rills of raindrops on...

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Is it a reverie or a true slice of life?
Have I landed in Arcadia or an earthly paradise?
All seems so magical, eyes refusing to believe.
Am I dreaming or do I simply fantasize?

I see everything clothed...

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~  My favorite Thanksgiving memory was, quite simply, a walk at my grandparents house - I'll never forget how nature spoke to me that day about what is truly important, what I'm most thankful...

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how I yearn for July
      and that fat summer sun
   the long sunny days
         and the eves' sultry fun
but sweet...

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One day while wandering with a friend
Down country road to river’s bend,
A wooden bridge o’er country mile,
Alone, we sat there for a while.

‘Twas in our youth this late September
Two souls took rest above a river,
Where...

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