Inspirations and Quotations HTML version
A Ghost Sails by Scotland's Isles
A Rose is Still a Rose When Not in Bloom
A ghost sails by Scotland's isles,
And looks at a nation in chains
A spirit broken, a tongue not spoken,
Just brave defiance remains.
A rose is still a rose when not in bloom,
To say so is like to say that grass is green,
But when something of beauty is not in flower,
The fact that it is a flower often is not seen.
Each chieftain looks after his garden,
His gardens the kingdom he hopes to expand,
He swears loyalty to any king,
Bears none to his native land.
Roses have thorns as well as blooms,
Then grasped can give pain, make us bleed,
So it is so, when one once we loved,
Speaks to hurt, or does against you a deed.
The people pure, their leaders not sure,
Declare allegiance to one and all,
Be you from Norway or from France,
When you upon them call.
That they are still the flower let us not forget,
And flowers cannot all the time be in flower,
But when they do bloom, how lovely the display,
To be with such a bloom on their hour!
The last of the Stewart kings,
Who fought with Highland men,
Looks on his land with tears in his eyes,
Knows he'll never rule there again!
He Who Walks Among Thorns
An African proverb states:
"A man does not walk among thorns,
unless fleeing from a snake
or pursuing one"
With Passing Time Is Lost Forever
With passing time is lost forever
The opportunities of the past days,
But new case with the morrow,
And show in different ways.
* * * * * *
He who walks among thorns,
Does not do so for its own sake,
No but rather he flees
From a chasing snake...
To make the most of what we have
As a resolution may it be said,
For we know not the day or the hour,
When tomorrows we have none: we are dead!
And if not so that the man walks
A path of thorns his way in bare feet to make,
Should he not be fleeing from: he must pursue
To capture a fleeing snake.
Rain Beats At My Window
Silence is Gods Lullaby
Rain beats at my window,
As the day it slowly dies,
As midnight approaches,
I'm cold I realise.
For long I've sat at keyboard
Typing words onto screen
Its seems as if no time,
And yet for hours writing I've been.
Floating music and soaring voices
Break the silence of the night,
Singing Christmas songs in a tong I don't know,
As outside nothing is in sightÈ
For it is but the early hours of a new day,
Even the birds are still silent now,
It is as if the world stands still,
The closest we get to God while living somehow...
And I turn on the heater,
I get up from my chair,
I stretch and yawn, look in the mirror
Laugh at my reflection there...
And on the screen, to be on paper,
These words I wrote be they many or few,
As much as the mirror,
Are a reflection of me too!
For when life and all its craziness stops
And the worries of the world cease,
The ensuing silence is Gods lullaby
And we awake or asleep live in peace...