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<tr><td>INTO THE WEST
With beaks like boat prows, tilted high,
they ride white foaming clouds whereby
no breeze exists within the mist;
no wings are spread yet on they fly.
And, see, they sail serene and sure
no sign of fear and all demure.
It seems they glide the restless waves
that drive them far to destined shore.
The sky is smudged a pastel hue
of grey and pink on shades of blue
and wispy veils float gently down,
to grace the way and lead them through.
Soft silver beams and golden light,
a dreamscape journey of delight,
where whispered voices draw invite
and lift their souls to further height.
~Diana B</td><td>Perch Rill
Now as I was young and easy under the towering necks
About the hymning flow and happy as the rill was blue,
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....The world beneath the ripples trouty,
........Time let me sail and roam
....Purple in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among gaggles I was prince of the minnow schools
And once below a time I lordly had the reeds and gravel
........Trail with shrimplets and mayflies
....Down the eddies of the godsend light.
And as I was blue and carefree, famous upon the banks
Along the joyous runnels, honking as the brook was home
....In the sun that is pink once only,
........Time let me play and be
....Purple in the meanders of his muse,
And blue and purple I was finder and fisher, the perch
Fled from my eye, the grayling in the millpond feared my bill,
........And my shadow loomed scary
....On the pebbles of the wary streams.
~Henry Quince</font>
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