Our Troubled Sky
When thunderstorms come out to play,
And lightning o'er this earth is seen,
Dense clouds descend in colours grey,
And rain pours forth, where sun has been.
When crescendos resound in humid air,
And exacerbate our troubled sky,
Will all the power residing there,
Look kindly down from portals high.
Such danger lurks in flashes bright,
Splitting the heavens so mercilessly,
But what an amazing glorious sight,
Portrayed here in all its ferocity.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Hummingbird
He hovers above the delicate flowers,
His wings can vibrate with exceptional powers,
And with his long beak, draws out nectar sweet,
Making him the world's best selector petite.
The hummingbird sends out a rhythmic hum.
Whilst enjoying his feast on the delphinium.
His wonderful plumage, iridescent and fine,
Sparkles multicoloured in the balmy sunshine.
With absolute purpose, he's impressive and bold,
The smallest of birds, yet a delight to behold.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Landscape So Obscure
The mists that linger across the moor,
Drifting and swirling above the ground,
Are eerie as they travel around,
Making the landscape so obscure.
But as they rise up sleepy slow,
So gradually the world appears,
Taking away those phantasmic fears,
When recognising the place you know.
With this curtain spread wide, over the land,
Dense space is linked with soundless time,
The cloak released then starts to climb,
Raised up by God's almighty hand.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Nature's Purity
Come buds break forth and greet the spring,
And dress the world in garments new,
Such subtle shades you'll gently bring,
When winter bids us all adieu.
Each branch will sparkle with new growth,
And birds will chatter amongst the leaves,
And many a couple will pledge their troth,
Beneath a tree, with a love that cleaves.
Oh, such abundance here is viewed,
When all has reached maturity,
A rich and spendid sight accrued
By nature, here in its purity.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I Danced With The Ball Of Silk - By Kitty Cotton (My Great Niece) Aged 11 (Set of three poems)
There it hung gracefully in the darkness,
So beautiful I could not resist,
I shall go to the silk ball and dance with the stars.
I used the clouds as steps and the stars formed me a ladder,
And I touch the ball,
It is so silky and as smooth as milk,
I dance all night with it.
I come back home and tell the amazing news,
But of course no-one believed me,
But, I shall treasure it as my memory for ever.
For I danced with the ball of silk!
© Kitty Cotton
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Wisp Of Mist
Was that a wisp of mist I saw, swirling across the lawn,
Drifting through the shrubbery, this early November’s dawn.
Frost had gathered on the grass, making it all crisp and white,
And so a chilly day has shown a vision of delight.
Winter’s fingers are moving and the land begins to freeze,
Dressed in a silver blanket by nature’s great expertise.
Icy world of sparkle, a unique transformation seen,
As a wisp of mist goes swirling slowly across the green.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Safely Graze
Your words are beautiful, O Lord,
They soothe the soul that's in distress,
And lighten now that heavy load,
So that our hearts such love, possess.
They ease the struggles of this life,
And rebuild our failing faith in Thee,
Helping us to travel through the strife,
When peace and happiness we'll see.
One heavenly Father, kind and true,
Whose love and trust is ours always,
In time we'll find your dwelling place,
And through eternity we'll safely graze.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Ceaseless Power
The sea invades the coastal cliffs,
Battling against its stalwart stone,
Devouring its surface bit by bit,
And leaving it gullible and prone.
The rocks hit back with warlike will,
Facing the churning water's rage,
With ceaseless power, the ocean spars,
And tries, at all times to upstage.
So firm and strong the crags were formed,
And tough and sheer its rock face stands,
But slow erosion there will always be,
As the bluff gives way to the deep's demands.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Come On Be Brave! ' (By My Great Niece Kitty Cotton 11 yrs)
Doctors rushing everywhere,
Up and down the aisles,
Patients crying, panicking,
‘Are there any rooms to spare! ’
The parents would say.
Nurses rushing everywhere,
In and out of rooms,
Patients crying, panicking,
‘Don’t worry, all our nurses care! ’
The chief doctor would say
Into the staff rooms,
Into the offices,
Doctors crying, panicking
‘Oh come on be brave, it’ll all be over soon! ’
© Kitty Cotton
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Heavenly Thought
I had a thought, that if I got to Heaven
And knocked on the 'pearly gates' at seven,
St Peter would say ' Hold it there'
We haven't got a place to spare,
Not at least, until the clock strikes ten
Then we would consider you again.
Now, if you would like to take a seat
Outside somewhere, and rest your feet,
We'd definitely be able to take you through
When the clock strikes half past two.
But if by chance a 'harp' you play,
There'd be a place for you, right away!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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