This is a poem inspired by the images of Fife beaches and thoughts of BREXIT
Like all my poems, there is little rhyme, rhythm, metre and the words may defy logic.
Written after a minor accident on Thursday evening. That is using one finger on a mobile phone. Other fingers bruised.
We live on an island.
No, not of the desert kind
An island that is not one
Except in the beauty of my mind
Beauty is hidden
not seen by the many,
but only the few
A pleasing pleasure,
the blue clouds of peace.
A beauty that beams light,
that laps the storms of the sea
Are those waters part of the fleece?
And does it destroy their coming plight
So why do we fight
To destroy the float of white wool?
Better to do thine will every night
Why ignore the gift of God and his might?
As it is something precious that mixes, melts and multiplies his light
Random drops of heavenly manna
Drops that dance like hot snowflakes and not a spanner
Snowflakes that land on a raucous world.
And how I do love Apple Pie,
Snowflakes, Apple, and the planet wearing a mandatory bow tie.
All, of course, a delight to my eye
Yet in itself, the world is a bit,
a very small shot, a very small mitt
Yes – It is Minuscule and Mountain crushing
But is all well and is all fit?
Planet earth is Yes…
And it will, yes it will survive
But what is more beautiful
Better than the world and something that will revive
Better than this island
Surely, it must be
Yes… An island of Paradise.
One that is alive
A Paradise that lives, lives inside.
A Paradise of life
An Island within itself that cannot hide
An isle of the Great with some strife
The Great United people, that have boats near a buoy
The United In a Kingdom full of joy
Sadly, not for the many but the few.
And nearly everything is broken and little is new.
Split by discord,
a broken chord of love.
What do we do?
Is it an emergency
No! I made a mistake – sorry operator
But… Mirror, Mirror on the wall who is the most beautiful of them all…
The most beautiful is within…
“it is within”
“Within the innards”
“Within the innards”
The magic of inside
explored by a naive surgeon’s knife
The magic of you plus
The magic of two beaches in Fife
The magic of a bride walking down the aisle
of golden sand to become a wife
But can we Ignite that passionate spark?
Remember we are the many and not the few”.
But what are we?
We are the people
But who are the many?
We the people are the many
Where are the few?
That is the mystery…
And how do we grow and find out what is true?
All these questions and there is someone in the know
There is only one thing to do…
Speak to someone to release your life and make it go
and he will help you no matter even when you feel low…
Try Prayer https://www.trypraying.co.uk/about
Beaches at Milesnilk by Aunty Ana Gram