Showing posts with label longbowsandrosarybeads.com. Show all posts
Showing posts with label longbowsandrosarybeads.com. Show all posts
Monday, March 24, 2014
Longbows and Rosary Beads
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Longbows and Rosary Beads
For Pearl of Tyburn
Our happy England is Our Lady’s dowry
An island of longbows and rosary beads,
Where we are proud to work, to pray, to fight,
To love the land and sea and misty skies
Our happy England is a thoughtful land
An island of writers, scholars, and rogues
Whose stories, sonnets, songs create new worlds,
A commonwealth of art for the ages
Our happy England is not bound by coasts,
By distances or time. Our island is
An empire of the mind, as Churchill said,
The blessed Avalon of our hearts’ desires.
Published in Longbows and Rosary Beads (http://longbowsandrosarybeads.blogspot.com/ ),
5 January 2014
Sunday, May 26, 2013
A Twilight Study
Lawrence Mack Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com
May, 2013
Perhaps there is no reason why these thoughts
Should be reconstructed, recalled, re-read,
This dusk in spring, soft-scented, green, and still,
With cumulous clouds rehearsing for the summer,
Silently flinging the falling sun about,
And from the grass the early mosquitoes
With tiny, unseen wings grudge wheeling birds
Utility, charm, sometimes majesty.
Mischievous cats dancing like couplets in rhyme
Along the fence-top in alla breve time
Torment with pirouettes the ground-bound dogs,
Provoking from their playmates envious barks,
Prologue to a reconciliation
And Eden’s sleep beneath the ancient moon.
Why should this hour, gentle with Vesper joys,
Be scanned and disciplined as iamb’d lines
In poor remembrance of reality,
A catalogue of senses lived in time
And reconsidered then on ink-marked page,
Or screen luminescent within a box?
Old Adam knew such tranquil gardened evenings,
And generations yet beyond the stars
Will live on earth such happy sunset peace;
Yet still, somehow, this moment of Creation
Is now commended to a leaf or so,
And when the actors of these moments past
Joy in the eternal summer of God,
Maybe, after whispering to the skies an evening hymn,
Someone will read these lines, and delight in them.
mhall46184@aol.com
May, 2013
A Twilight Study
Perhaps there is no reason why these thoughts
Should be reconstructed, recalled, re-read,
This dusk in spring, soft-scented, green, and still,
With cumulous clouds rehearsing for the summer,
Silently flinging the falling sun about,
And from the grass the early mosquitoes
With tiny, unseen wings grudge wheeling birds
Utility, charm, sometimes majesty.
Mischievous cats dancing like couplets in rhyme
Along the fence-top in alla breve time
Torment with pirouettes the ground-bound dogs,
Provoking from their playmates envious barks,
Prologue to a reconciliation
And Eden’s sleep beneath the ancient moon.
Why should this hour, gentle with Vesper joys,
Be scanned and disciplined as iamb’d lines
In poor remembrance of reality,
A catalogue of senses lived in time
And reconsidered then on ink-marked page,
Or screen luminescent within a box?
Old Adam knew such tranquil gardened evenings,
And generations yet beyond the stars
Will live on earth such happy sunset peace;
Yet still, somehow, this moment of Creation
Is now commended to a leaf or so,
And when the actors of these moments past
Joy in the eternal summer of God,
Maybe, after whispering to the skies an evening hymn,
Someone will read these lines, and delight in them.
Published
in Longbows and Rosary Beads, http://longbowsandrosarybeads.blogspot.com/,
5 May 2013
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