A cottage ruined but still proud,
High up on this green hill stands,
By the lone pine I seek shade,
Below the same grey scree expands.
I have over filled my heart,
With the lake’s deep blue waters,
To let loose these feelings that ache,
Climbed again on this hill’s shoulders.
I began to scribe my words of love,
Across the page of light blue sky,
Oh! What a vain calligraphy!
In tumbling strokes the letters fly.
With arms thrashing as all lines lost,
Clear water scrawled in air,
Gone now like some invisible ink,
Nothing worthy is left there.
Her future draws her to the east,
There Nature pulls her to its breast,
What chance of a backward look?
When she no longer faces west.
Now sitting on a rough stone,
With cold wind tugging each regret,
I am hoping for one thing alone,
Just one magic eastern sunset.
Fergus Carty
"I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time".
~Robert Browning
*************************
Word Scramble Fun: Unscramble the following word. The first letter is given as a hint. The answer will be revealed tomorrow.
C L I Y F E I T
F _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Yesterday's word was: SEASONAL
*************************
Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to sharing your own beautiful poetry with the world.
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_b.png?x-id=76b46a57-a604-4ce5-b2a6-5efb7af70a1a)
