2014 - Vol. 73
of poems from The snipe in winter, by Sean O'Neill
of Loch Tarff, Scotland by (c) John
by Sean O'Neill
Sunk like a Norsemanís targe in the gray hills
whose green flanks fall like the folds of a skirt
in this narrow cusp of land, where brown dirt
bulges with life, this gentle loch distils
the raging of many rains into gold.
The riffled disc quavers as the sun dies
across her kind margins flashing the thighs
of the hills as the bolts of ling unfold.
If I marvel all day, summoning words
to fit the beauty of the cool waterís
rippled plane, is my time not as guileless
as a living prayer? If beauty still girds
Godís movement in time, then wonder is prayerís
handmaid and will serve to sanctify and bless.
ling heather flower in
bloom - Scotland
A selection of poems from
The snipe in winter, by Sean O'Neill
||This poem is from The
snipe in winter, a new collection of poems by Sean OíNeill. Available
Book available at Amazon.
O'Neill is originally from Glasgow, Scotland, and currently lives in St.
Paul, Minnesota, USA. He has published three books of poems and several
in past issues of Living Bulwark