Sentinel Poetry (Online) #36 – November 2005

Online Magazine Monthly…since December 2002. ISSN 1479-425X




Bryan EvansBryan Evans


Mountain Solitude


The sky darkens over the mountains,

and night falls silent and still;

The moon is hid behind the clouds,

as the mist forms on the hill.


The valley lies in quiet slumber,

sheep and cattle are not heard;

Not a soul to break the silence,

no-one here to breath a word.


Strange silhouette forms all around,

strikes fear into my soul;

Images that are not really there,

some partial and some whole.


The cold night breeze sends a shiver,

to chill my blood and bone;

Heather damp beneath my feet,

as I stand here all alone.


Misty dewdrops form upon my hair,

like a diamond studded cap;

Nature's nightime murky veil,

covers all in a nocturnal wrap.


Morning golden sunrise finds me,

lets the nightime gently pass;

Cattle low and sheep are bleating,

welcoming the dew kissed grass.


Hilltop cairns and rocks stand boldly,

fearlessly watch the valleys below;

Easterly sun rise higher and brighter,

fills my veins with a warming glow.


Gentle warm air breathes across me,

buzzards soaring high above;

Sparkling streams dance over boulders,

nature's hand removes it's glove.


The shepherd and his faithful friend,

round up a distant fleecy flock;

The buzzard swoops down on it's prey,

takes the bloodied trophy to a rock.


I sit alone on a moss cushioned rock,

amazed by the sights that I see;

All things wild and wonderful,

that God has given me.





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