Look out across the windswept hills,
With rainbow hues, with misty blues,
Across the valleys, lakes and rills,
Where landscapes fuse, where eyes peruse,
And rest upon that quaint cottage small,
Tall chimney stack, with smoke of black.
A place of solitude from any squall.
That winding track, that calls you back,
To rest from ills,
To sit and muse.
With thoughts to trawl
With a homing tack.
© Ernestine Northover
Dear Ernestine You have something very beautiful here for all of us. All The Best, and as Doc Wilde say's Blue Skies and Green lights.
of the poems of yours that i have read this one stood out to me, the others who have commented on this peice have pretty much covered every aspect of it, but there is something about it that was starkly beautiful and i cannot put into deserving words. ben
I enjoyed reading this serene poem with its peaceful imagery. Also, I found the rich rhyme pattern interesting.
Truly like contemplating a painting. Lovely, Ernestine. Linda
Oh Keats.. Thou beautiful one..a light snuffed too soon. Your words we cherish
a beautiful yet scintillating scenary of solutude that takes us from this madden world of materialism, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This leads us back to a peace within, a track worth every step, and on every step along the way we feel more contented.Lovely writting from such a great poet.Love Duncan