Rains descend upon my head The sky grows dark and chill The rush surround my mind and soul To freeze my halting will Clouds move o’er the dawning sun And halt the marching light My vision dims throughout the morn And shrinks into the night Fogs envelope mind and frame The world becomes a haze … Continue reading Rains Descend
They whisper still on Tara’s Hill, the lasting memories Of men and beasts, of rain and wind, of ages run to die They whisper of the highest kings, resplendent in their dress Brought-forth from waring clans upon the Isle of the Green They whisper of the strains of men, in fellowship arrayed They whisper of … Continue reading Tara’s Lasting Memories
It is given to me to see the sorrows of life, and rarely her beauties and joys.
The classic poem, "The Hound of Heaven", by Francis Thompson I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up … Continue reading The Hound of Heaven