Reaching the Top

Two little red ants,
With puffs and with pants,
Were climbing a stone,
But one ant was prone,
To vertiginous spells,
In his ears he heard bells,
Which would suddenly ring,
With a loud ting-a-ling.

It made his legs shake,
And his whole body quake,
What was to be done,
He so wanted to run,
To get far, far away,
But his friend said, 'No, stay',
Just take a breath, deep,
You don't have to weep.

But climb onto my back,
For I've got the knack, .

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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As We Go

A dream of white, snow newly laid,
Lines of footprints, all freshly made,
As across the ground we go,
Leaving our footprints in the snow.

A dream of yellow, sun so strong,
Lines of sunshades on sand, belong,
As across the beach we go,
Leaving the shades, in the sun’s glow.

A dream of blue, sky clearly seen,
Lines of vapour, where planes have been,
As across the land we go,
Leaving the trails, that skywards flow.

A dream of black, the night is here,
Lines of stars, which slowly appear,
As across the hours we go,
Leaving the stars, on night’s shadow,

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Awakening Solitude

Along the cliffs,
the Swifts,
dart and dive through early drifting mists.

The clover, pink,
lifts its globular heads to morning dew,
and a handful of intrepid cyclists.

A fog horn sounds,
across the water,
echoing above the birds shrill songs
making them scatter.

No matter.

They will return again,
and resume their bright and cheerful communal chatter.

A seagull rides the thermals, its habitude,
hovering.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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To Battlefields, All

The rhythmic crunch of the marching feet,
Down the cobbled roads in the summer heat.
Soldiers in serge, so ready and willing,
Carriages on trains, their young bodies filling,
To battlefields, all, set in foreign soil,
Facing the enemy, their prepared plans to foil.
Never knowing if they would ever return
To the cosy firesides, that would invitingly burn.

With hope they travelled and strove to win,
To free this world from its sorrow and sin.
As they waved goodbye, their smiles were sweet,
But inside, each felt a shuddering heart beat.
So full of fear, yet called forward to fight
An opponent to crush, by day and by night.
Oh, What we owe to these men so fine,
Who fought with valour on hell’s frontline.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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With Faith And Hope

The tears fall, but no one's there to heed them,
The heart it mourns, but no one sees the hurt.
An emptiness has seeped into the brainstem,
One's feeling dazed, and no longer alert.

Such desolation haunts one's whole persona,
What can one do, and just where can one go,
You feel as if you've now become a loner,
How droplets, when they're prompted, freely flow.

To cry can be a painful kind of action,
One weeps for someone one has loved so well,
Yet grieving gives release, if just a fraction,
Which heals the ache and lets sadness dispel.

Only time will ease such utter sorrow,
That comes from losing someone Oh, so dear,
But with the dawning of each new tomorrow,
With faith and hope you'll find a panacea.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Comes the Day

After years of caring;

Comes the day, when the children depart,
for pastures new, for them a new start,
leaving you with a emptiness in your heart.

Comes the day, when things you have wanted to do,
cannot now, for you, ever come true,
they just become dreams you can no longer pursue.

Comes the day, when everything seem to go slow speed,
the body and brain have gone to seed,
and all the 'aids' on offer are what you need.

Comes the day, when you become a burden there,
for someone else to take on and bear,
until one rises up to dwell in our Redeemers care.

Comes the day, when the Heavens for you, open wide,
your life will begin again on the other side,

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Gift To Earth

One baby boy, was his Mother’s joy,
Cradled, warm upon her knee.
The Holy birth, was a gift to earth,
A Saviour for you and me.

A tiny life, knowing yet, no strife,
Was now waiting to begin.
He came to save, and therefore forgave,
Our vast multitudes of sin.

Some shepherds they heard what had occurred,
And followed a Star post haste.
Three wise men too, on their camels, knew
This new King had to be traced.

Rough the cattle stall, with mud brick wall,
Crude built manger filled with straw.
This special child, so gentle and mild,
Was a Lord we could adore.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Two Minds Alike

My thoughts they drift from then to now,
Of what has been and what's in store,
So many seasons converge in one,
And from my heart my sorrows pour.

For once we were so very close,
Our thoughts would intertwine as one,
Knowing what the other thought,
Before one word had e'er begun.

Two minds alike, two minds close knit,
Each understanding every muse,
Telepathy between two souls,
Linking together, each sense did fuse.

We never appreciated the gift,
Of connecting with the power of thought,
But squandered it without regard,
And threw it far, as if worth naught.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Sail Away

He stood on the deck,
the sun, shining on his face.

The sails billowed as they took up the force of the wind,
driving the boat forward.

He felt a lifting of his spirits, a freedom
he hadn't felt for a long, long time.

All this space.
The sea, and the sky.
Unbelievable, in their dimensions.

To sail away, to be reborn,
perhaps in another time, another world.

'What do you think of her, Sir'?
The voice brought him back to reality.

'Oh! Very nice indeed, a beautiful craft'.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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Exit

I don't wish to have to think anymore,
I want to completely clear my mind,
So please close me down, that's for sure,
Switch me off, if you would be so inclined.

Let me have a clearance sale,
Everything in my head, must go,
Whatever the buyers want to nail,
Give it too them, I don't want to know.

My mind could be swept clean by a sudden gale,
Perhaps washed away in the river's flow,
Or my thoughts lashed flat by a shower of hail,
Then thrown high into an arched rainbow.

Let me in oblivion float,
Dulled and slowly lulled,
Until I couldn't care a groat, *
About my mind being finally annulled.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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