A Journey Through Hell

'SEEING THE WOOD FOR THE TREES' From Visual Counterpoint

Hell is the haven for lies and deceit,
I walk though the door every day,
The journey demands I admit defeat,
And leave my dreams where they lay
Gasping for grace in the dust of my trail
And for water to turn into clay
The belief that imagination will sail
To the future so ignorance might fail.

Barriers to Understanding

'BARRIERS TO UNDERSTANDING'From Visual Counterpoint

I have been fighting the debilitating effects of a headache for the past week; this is something I am used to doing, as it is due to the chronic migraine I suffer. I decided to take the dogs out early this morning to attempt to walk the Pennine trail while it was less busy and hopefully without ‘strobe’ bicycle lights coming toward me. I would like these banned.
I was doing quite well until accosted by a man who had just joined the trail with his small dog in tow. My new dog Lucy was determined to attempt to wrap herself in his lead in order to communicate her delight at meeting his dog and played deaf to my calls. I apologised for my lack of control over her and muttered that I had a bad headache hoping that would excuse it. Luckily for me he was not bothered but then unluckily for me he then launched into a history of his own experiences of bad headaches, which he solved with yoga. My reply that it didn’t work for me did not faze him and then ignoring my statement that my condition was due to trauma he said his wife was a therapist. I was left in no doubt as to what kind of therapist as the conversation unfolded. He asked if I was blood group O. Unfortunately for him he had guessed incorrectly but he recovered with the next most common blood group A and followed with the statement that all group A people should be vegetarian. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh at such a ridiculous idea or cry for the person who was capable of believing such rubbish. I decided to believe that I had misheard him, which is always a possibility.
He then jogged about ten yards up the Pennine trail dragging a reluctant dog behind him before turning back to walk back past me saying. ‘He doesn’t want to run today, his mind is on food.’
I knew how the dog felt except that food was the last thing on my mind.

INTRODUCING LUCY

How can she be deaf with ears like that?

From Visual Counterpoint

'WHO SAID THIS WAS SIMPLE?'From Visual Counterpoint

If I Forget

'IF I FORGET' From Visual Counterpoint

If I were to forget you
Let the rivers run dry,
If I were to forget your love
Let the stars fall from the sky,
And let me become deaf and dumb
If I forget you before I die.

' I AM IN CHARGE' From Visual Counterpoint

'I CAN DO LINE-DANCING TOO' From Visual Counterpoint

'DID I MAKE A DIFFERENCE?'From Visual Counterpoint

Mais oui, merci mon ami.

This song is dedicated to Chris. He stayed at his post as long as he could.
I have a new bundle of trouble from the Cheshire Dog’s Home. She has already fallen in the canal and I wish I still had my old boy to teach her some manners.

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Greg Kiser of 446 photography has decided to take a different path and his website will soon be cancelled. I advise anyone who likes great photographs to use the link on the right to his site while it is available. I wish him success and happiness on his journey.

A Serenade

'ON THE WINGS OF A SONG' From Visual Counterpoint

Heard by poets and lovers,
Our companion sings a long farewell,
The oceans reach out to the music,
Tears of sorrow crest the swell.

Holding a timeless secret,
Far from the footprints left in dust,
Her light separates need from greed,
And serenades love not lust.

Her song will slowly fade away,
Like a shadow slips into the night,
But for now it flies with the eagle,
And dares us to do what is right.


The picture is two photographs merged in photoshop layers.
I believe the 'eagle' is a Peregrine falcon that I managed to photograph flying over Pale Heights.

Pale Heights

'HIGH AND MIGHTY'From Visual Counterpoint

Pale heights stand proud,
Over the Cheshire plain,
And tall trees are slain
At its feet from a silent crowd,
The wind through the masts,
Dimly echoes the cries,
From the hunter of the skies,
And the wild call lasts.

'CALL OF THE WILD'From Visual Counterpoint

Pale heights is the highest point in Cheshire, England and at its' feet Delamere forest lies.
The second photograph is two merged in photoshop layers, both were taken on the heights.

The Daydream Maker

'FOLLOW ME' From Visual Counterpoint

The daydream maker is busy all night,
Making up everything perfectly right,
A silken canopy grows from old rags,
Stardust is placed in seven sand bags.
The daydream maker works through the night,
Dawn is booked for the maiden flight.

The daydream maker toils in the dark,
Making up everything to hit the mark,
A feather-light basket is woven from clouds,
Thought simply concealed in their soft shrouds,
The daydream maker labours with love,
A free hand covered by a velvet glove.

Scarcely before the day is begun,
The dream maker falls asleep in the sun,
Imagination now free runs wild,
And powered by the breath from a child
The daydream maker’s gift slowly rises,
Dressed in a myriad of disguises.

The Journey

'Haven' From Visual Counterpoint

Home is the journey from cradle to grave,
Some mark their way with courageous deeds,
Others scatter words like fertile seeds,
Very few find the peace all men crave.

Row your boat gently down the stream,
Neither too fast nor too slow,
Singing softly as you go,
Time is carrying your life’s dream.

We are travellers on the seas of change,
Where no return ticket is for sale,
We only have ourselves to fail,
Here, home on the range.