Soaring, Soaring…
Soaring, soaring, higher and higher
From here I can see for mile upon mile
Far over the seas to the horizon
Come with me and stay a while
As we ride the ascending thermals
Or take advantage of the wind
All It takes is just a moment
As we leave our cares behind
No one will notice as we take our flight
Soon we will be far, far away
Where the earth has stopped spinning
And there is always the light of day
Just close your eyes and you will know
The gentle call from inside your heart
Everyone around us won’t see a thing
And this will be our journey’s start
Deeper and deeper, only joy exists
This vision can see the end of infinity
Onwards and upwards the innermost calls
Can you see us, can you see?
Wave upon wave the thermals come
It’s warmth takes us further on
Effortlessly we keep on rising
Like hot air in the summer’s sun
Things past, present and future are one
A singularity where all tenses merge
The sight we have has no boundaries
Our perspectives do not converge
A fresh wind is approaching
Our countenance grows at the sight
There are others too in her midst
Oh what pleasure, what delight
The encounter is exhilarating
This feeling will never ever cease
Everything physical falls away
How great this sweet release
All we feel is light
All we hear is light
All we taste is light
All we see is light
The light is all around us
The light pervades us
The light emits from us
There is nothing but light
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High Street!!
Outside In – Inside Out
Why is that single launderette chair in the middle of the road?
And the writing inside all wrong — it’s all back-to-front!
The people who wrote those words and printed them
Can’t write or spell a thing, no they just can’t!
Those three storey buildings where people live and work
Look so small behind the seriffed lettered window
The wall mounted lampshade is just as large as one floor
Everything looks different from what I used to know
These houses fit nicely in the centre of that door mat
The numbers above one window are just like a four berth tent
And reads one penny short of twenty-five pounds
With an annual percentage rate of zero percent
People in this land are shockingly backward
Almost every single letter reads from right to left
They hang enormous clothes on motorbikes and cars
And hop on indoor buses that are not frequent
On every street junction in the middle of the road
They play darts, drink tea and eat currant buns
While sitting on chintz covered chairs at Bauhaus tables
And wave at whizzing juggernauts just for fun
The people here prefer to drive their cars inside
Even the road signs are inside on all but the ground floors
As for the trees well, they just copy the cars and the road signs
And grow quite healthily in the spacious sunny indoors
Then a car made of natural shimmering streaky speed blur
Drives straight through a glass partition and parks under a plant
What’s so amazing about this is that the glass doesn’t even break
Then flips over and points at the sky at an 80 degree slant
Look, there are more gigantic second-hand woolly jumpers
They seem to prefer gathering in sunny alfresco scenes
Just hanging there on their hangers in the middle of the street
And the cars won’t pass until they change from red to green
I really must replace these glasses with the polarised variety
Seeing everything as half-reversed and translucent is quite bizarre
When I take them off this land is more ludicrously bewildering
Then again, I’ll keep them on and apply dollops of sauce tartare
At last I’ve come to a civilised and sensible office space
Although it’s situated right in the middle of the street
I can see desks, office chairs, a photocopier, office forms
And charging elephants, wild horses, a cockatoo and a parakeet!
In one Union Jacked chippy was a spotless silver serving counter
Behind it stood a very short man in two-dimensional profile
His head was the size of an over inflated beach ball
His hair was of reversed letters, but he had a lovely smile
And even more extraordinary: a reflection reflecting itself
Now everything keeps reversing and turn turning about
Spiegel Im Spiegel melodies go round inside my head
On and on and on it goes, outside in, inside out
Can this land get any curiouser and curiouser, Alice?
Rabbit holes certainly look different from the top
I’ll examine reflections from a different perspective
By looking through them from the inside of shops
Coffee shops are decidedly best for this activity
I’ll take a pew and choose espresso — no sugar
And a large slice of crème crowned caffè latte cake
Then soon I’ll emerge from my diurnal slumber
Click here for ‘High Street!!’ the musical poem
Click here for ‘Alison – Daughter of Alice’ the musical photography video
Cumbria
I’m writing from Lakeland’s Ambleside
This holiday is making me tired
Lots to see, lots to do
(Quite comfortable at Hotel Vale View)
Lots more to do, lots more to see
Kodak is making a fortune from me!
Ambleside is really quite quaint
Just the resort for he who is a saint
Plenty of places to lodge and eat
And people greet you in the street
Three times I’ve been drawn to this base
(Something to do with magnets in my case!)
Ennerdale Water on a bright sunny day
Can easily take your breath away
Approaching it from a high position
I saw a red arable farm engine
Near to it two little lambs were at rest
The scene was quintessentially picturesque
On the road to Buttermere the car was tossed to and fro
But on the way I felt a kind of pleasure though
When I arrived I saw the grandeur landscape
Woods where you could get lost in and escape
Mighty mountains where you could go hunting
And views of the lake which were just stunning
Next stop is the western sea port Whitehaven
The water there was coloured blue but now brown is given
Its marina and surrounding buildings are clean and new
The people looked happy, rested and contented too
On one of the covered piers I saw two young lovers
If only I could share this epic holiday with others
Devoke Water, the jewel in Cumbria’s crown
Far away from any village or town
This is my absolute favourite tarn of all
“Gloria in excelsis Deo!”, I hear the angels call
Not a single man or woman in sight
Spirited away I could stay all night
And so to the deepest lake of all, Wast Water
For many it’s the best; none comes after
There is a handy shop near by this lake
Which stocks plenty of Kendal Mint Cake
Rain is not uncommon to The District
Meaning my photography here had a limit
At Ullswater on the day of my visit
I distinguished a different kind of spirit
Communication with people in the area
Was not the same as the rest of Cumbria
Got some cracking photographs from a hill
Including a passing jet aircraft until it was nil
Photography of StockGhyll woods and stream
Was in many ways a waterscape dream
The low lighting, the bridge and the waterfall
The flowing water with its rocks and all
I set up my tripod on rubble, soil and sand
And forget the clock with its flying hands
Ahh Rydal Mount, so beautiful, so handsome
William Wordsworth’s home in the age of Romanticism
What wonderful words must have leaked from his quill
Poetry and prose, and whatever was his will
Dove Cottage too is where the art did flow
Walking the fells with the family in tow
Click here for a musical version of Cumbria
Michael Bobb
August 2018
Wrynose Pass
I’m on my way back to my lodgings
Not long, I hope, ‘till I’m safely back
I set the SatNav and follow its commands
It’s getting darker and will soon be pitch black
Directions take me along an unexpected route
There’s no street lights as I travel
And low clouds hide stars and moon
No cats eyes either, just miles of gravel
The SatNav tells me the way to go
You can trust its internal compass
They map out the quickest route
Then I hear it say, “Continue 9 miles on Wrynose Pass”
“Oh no!” I anxiously think to myself
“Wasn’t there an accident not far from here
Traffic was redirected for quite a few miles
Oh dear… oh dear… oh dear!”
Wrynose Pass is famously challenging
It is not a cruise down Oxford Street
It takes precision, technique and nerves of steel
To navigate this part of the Cumbrian retreat
The road is steep, winding and narrow
You could end up down a fell that feeds a lake
Your first mistake on Wrynose Pass
Will be the last one you ever make
Suddenly I’m becoming more and more aware,
Not making the bumps and holes set the tone,
Wrynose Pass is not defeating me;
My driving is fearless, I’m in the zone
Although it is virtually pitch black now
And other headlights are in the chase
This I know, yes, 100% sure
I’m in front and setting the pace
Before I know it the terrain is less severe
And tailgate headlights are almost gone
This is not the time to relax or disengage
It’s just me, you see, I’m travelling alone
I turn the last bend, pull up and switch off
I now feel promoted to a new class
I step out of the car and lock the door
No victims tonight in Wrynose Pass
Click here for a musical version of Wrynose Pass
Michael Bobb
21 August 2017
In 2017 I was sojourning in Ambleside. The American style B & B was named Compston House. I happened to be in the Pennsylvanian Suite which was well facilitated and included sufficient reading material — including information about Pennsylvania. From these facts and figures I extracted the following rhyming verse. (The second and third in the trio are ‘Wrynose Pass’ and ‘Cumbria’ respectfully).
Pennsylvania
(The Keystone State)
With a population @ 12, 000,000
And total area over 46k square miles
Pennsylvania is really quite large
With many couples walking down the aisles
Its chief industries are all interesting
Biotechnology and advanced manufacturing
Agribusiness and travel & tourism
Health care and printing & publishing
Corn is one of Pennsylvania’s chief crops
As also is hay and mushrooms as it goes
What has to be more important than these
Are winter wheat, apples and potatoes
A state motto is always a good thing to have
Stirring courage and feelings of belongingness
You may have one, or know one, or able to quote one
Pennsylvania’s is: “Virtue, Liberty and Independence”
Pennsylvania’s state flower is the Mountain Laurel
Research their medicinal information
And its state bird is the Ruffed Grouse
Also known as the Prairie Chicken
There are famous Pennsylvanians too
Including Perry Como and Grace Kelly
Benjamin Franklin and Jimmy Stewart
And Andy Wharhol and Grace Kelly
Click here for a musical version of Pennsylvania
Michael Bobb
August 2017 and 2019
Avril’s New Car
When winter comes or comes the rain
Must she rely on bus or train
Or could total independence be her aim?
Whatever the reason, whatever the vein
She had decided, “never again!”
For horses she has bought without their manes
Some call it a car, some call it a wain
Cause SAAB Automobile is its name
As she speeds down the road on the inside lane
With the metal horses she struggles to tame
She almost takes off like a jet aeroplane!
And I hear her friends repeat the heightened refrain
“Look out, it’s that supersonic Avril again
A petrol head with high octane on the brain!”
Using her skill she avoids the bus and the crane
With a hand break turn that is far from plain
Then, one day, her car begins to complain
A flat battery, worn clutch — oh what a pain
And escalating running costs she cannot explain
On her pocket this is an unforeseen drain
Whatever the hardship, whatever the strain
Avril’s enthusiasm does not dwindle or wane
The love for her car is absolute and it shall remain
An so shall the queen of the highways reign
Click here for a musical version of ‘Avril’s New Car’
Michael Bobb
May 2019
This Is The Month — Eastertide
This is the month
When they say that it rains and pours
Down come the showers
From heaven’s open doors
But in-between the cascades
There are beams of sunlight
Shining through clouds
Heavy laden and fluffy white
This is the month
When the daylight grows longer and longer
With the sun rising earlier
And setting later and later
There is also a change
In the quality of light visible in the atmosphere
This phenomenon only happens
Once in the northern hemisphere
This is the month
When spring is well and truly here
It’s time for leaping of the lamb
And the young deer
Buds are prising open
Seeds and bulbs germinate
O, the splendour
Of nature’s natural nascency about this date
This is the month
That brings high tides to our shores
As the moon orbits closer
And waxes more and more
These signs are where
The Jewish people take their Passover
And from where Christians
Take the major holiday called Easter
There is nothing like Eastertide
Celebrating a fantastic event
It happened 2000 years ago
And I, in a sense, was present
The most spectacular display
Of God’s agape love
Crucifixion and Resurrection
The only plan from above
On a Friday God laid sin on His Son
The sin of men nailed to a cross
He crucified the sinless Lamb
And took away our dross
On a Sunday Christ is raised
And we are raised with Him
This same Resurrection Power —
The Spirit —is at work within
And now we can live righteously
The old has gone, the new has come
Spreading the Good News Gospel
Of what Jesus Christ has done
Click here for ‘This Is The Month — Eastertide’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
April 2019
The Ultimate Renewed Environment
At the end of time
When the new order has begun
And everything as we know it
Has been changed in the twinkling of an eye
And the elements have been burned up
Incinerated in a pure cleansing fire
And after the great conflagration
The cosmos that is left will be perfect
We will dance on streets of transparent gold
Bathe in a crystal river that is full of joy
Eat new fruit from a new special tree
And see with light not from the sun but The Son
The gravity inherent in nature and matter
Will be controlled at one’s own will
Even infinity will be multiplied by itself
And we will explore, and explore, and explore
…No longer will we recycle…
…No longer will we re-use…
…No longer will we conserve…
…No longer will we repair…
…And this will be for longer
Than anyone can calculate or imagine
Click here for ‘The Ultimate Renewed Environment’ musical poem
Michael Bobb
January, 2019
Gone Fishing
It’s 3:15 am and I’ve just packed my lunch and kit
The predictive seaweed looks clammy as I check it
The shipping forecast confirms, rain is on the way
And hovering around minus two for most of the day
I set out to the lake, about two hours drive
I am alone today without my friend Clive
As I arrive it’s raining and the wind has picked up
So I set my kit in place and pour my first cup
I sit back in the cold chair, chill out and wait
Will any fish like my fly today, and take to the bait?
My round score on the last few occasions
Has been zero, zilch, nothing to mention
But I keep coming back hoping for a bite
Day after day, and night after night
With hook, line and sinker cast in the water
Who knows, maybe one day I’ll catch that whopper
It’s about this time I notice my cold hands and feet
So on goes the gas fire and I enjoy a little heat
When the weather is grey, wet and freezing
Just wrap up warm when you go fishing
The time now is about quarter to two
So I unwrap my sarnies and pour another brew
Only another couple of hours and I’ll call it a day
And brag to Clive about the one that got away
Click here for ‘Gone Fishing’ the musical poem
Michael Bobb
November, 2018
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
As sweet as a ripened pear
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
With miles and tons of flair
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Whose presents charms the air
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Whose finery is common ware
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
With rich flowing hair
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
With eyes crystal clear
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Whose likeness is quite rare
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair maiden
Cosmopolitan, compassionate and cares
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Who soothes the tragic king Lear
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Troubadours play faint everywhere
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Whose beauty brings a tear
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
Silences the gloomy soothsayer
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
As fresh as the New Year
🌹
Dear Maiden
Fair Maiden
To my heart is very near
🌹
Michael Bobb
January, 2019
Click here for ‘Dear Maiden, Fair Maiden’ a musical poem
Mr Spock and the Lost Left Sock
Fiddly, Fiddly Mr Spock
Up and down the road he ran
Looking for his lost left sock
Knitted by his dear old Nan
It has tassels and conker size knots
Is a bit smelly and very, very old
It is green with pink and yellow spots
And ventilation holes, so I’m told
Could Captain Kirk have hidden it?
Or Scotty used it to gain warp factor speed?
Or Bones made it into liquid chemicals
To inject into the Klingons spleen?
“I’ve found it, I’ve found it!”
Comes Mr Spock’s cry
Lieutenant Uhura has used it
To make cheese and onion pie
Mr Spock’s belly rumbles
As he spies the culinary delight
But Chekov quickly snatches it
And tucks in with 3 or 4 bites
Mr Spock is speechless
And finds it hard to believe
So he puts his thumb into his mouth
And sobs on Zulu’s sleeve
Just another day on the Starship Second Prize
Tomorrow’s episode promises more
As they continue on their great commission
To boldly go where no man has gone before
Click here for ‘Mr Spock…’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
November, 2018
A Natural Virtuoso!
Just a few words I’ve penned over tea
That I hope will warm your heart and bless
Who in all the wide-world could it be?
An appreciative music lover no less
Keep on practicing the art and playing
Scales, broken chords and the arpeggio
And soon the classical fraternity will be saying
She is, without doubt, a natural virtuoso!
Her recordings are transcendent and evocative
The CDs in you hifi will transform your day
Listen to the exquisiteness from octave to octave
Gently close your eyes and be carried far away
In her playing are ravishing splendid moments
Her touch cannot be in any way surpassed
Every bar conveys consistent commitment
The notes she floats in your ears will last
Her filigree technique is flawless
The critics say, “100% panache”
The interpretations are understated yet fresh
Crescendos have plenty of style and dash
Her concert hall performances causes stomping
She charms the keyboard with unfailing eloquence
Box offices are sold out within hours of opening
The experience is worth more than pounds and pence
Her lasting impression you cannot erase
Whatever the chosen style or enharmonic keys
Stay and linger on every dripping phrase
Oh the aural delight as she caresses the keys
Unforgettable is the rarefied pianistic alchemy
I’m captivated by this musical don
Aficionados far and wide all plea
“If music be the food of love play on”
Click here for ‘A Natural Virtuoso!’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
August 2018
My Peace
🍊 Before my eyes open in the morning
At the instance of submerging from sleep
Even before I am aware of anything external
I experience something so powerful and so deep
🍋 My eye lids slowly open from their rest
And I extend one arm to test the air
Whatever my sense of touch detects
My internal peace is always there
🍌 It’s the start of a brand new day
I rise and prepare for its future
Knowing this peace will not be fazed
Because it is an inexhaustible treasure
🍉 To try and explain its presence in me
Would be like trying to describe the indescribable
You have to be inside my skin to know
And that would be impossible
🍇 This peace is from God and it guards me
Jesus left it here 2000 years ago
The first to have it were the Disciples
A special gift which you can know
🍓 Sometimes you can see it in my eyes
Or hear it behind my voice
It has something of eternal life in it
And inwardly I choose to rejoice
🍈 All pain is denied at the door
Situations and circumstances cannot penetrate
Man tries but cannot touch this core
Peace is always early and never late
🍒 When the day turns into history
And I retire in the evening in peace.
I rest sweetly on my cosy pillow
And withdraw my arm back under the sheets
🍑 I gently close my eyes and rest
And before long I’m fast asleep
God has been faithful today
His gift of peace is mine to keep
🍍 This heavenly gift I received was free
And you can have it with ease
Give Jesus Christ your entire life
In return He’ll give you eternal peace
Click here for ‘My Peace’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
September 2018
The Sky, The Sky
(Sky — part 1 of 3)
The sky, the sky in all its many shades of blue
Spectacled scientists tell us it has to be this hue
Much praise, I think, to them is certainly due
This first poem is dedicated to someone called Huw
A special, dear and loyal friend who has a pet ewe
And I reckon he could be the next Doctor Who
When I am out and about sometimes I stand (as you do)
Or indoors and pass by a window and look through
I look at the sky, so infinite, so harmonious, so true
I have experienced the sky, and to use words would be words too few
The first and second heavens disappear as I flew
And I discover a place I know but never knew
In this trilogy one more poem follows part two
Then these three will bid you, “farewell, goodbye, adieu”
Leaving you to look at the sky and enjoy the view
Click here for ‘The Sky, The Sky’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
July 2018
GOD CREATES
(Sky — part 2 of 3)
God creates
Heaven, sky
Beasts below
Feathered fly
God exhales
Into man
Adam, Eve
Eden’s jam
Christ descends
Perfect life
Jesus dies
Xtra strife
Jesus lives
Hades coughs
Christ ascends
Far above
Riding clouds
Christ returns
People see
People learn
Souls saved
Death dies
New earth
New sky
Baroque jewels
Gold, jasper
Clear crystal
Life, water
Fruitful tree
People come
Lasting light
Divine home
Jesus weds
Betrothed Church
Spirit calls
Angels search
Omni God
Thrice Una
Alpha and
Omega
Click here for ‘GOD CREATES’ a musical poem
Michael Bobb
July 2018
What Is There In All Creation…?
(Sky — part 3 of 3)
What is there in all creation that can compare to the sky?
She, at times, can be quite calm as well as electrifying
Also sometimes conveys sadness and happiness — quite confusing
This is because she is pure and 3 times very high
She has an air of nobility and quality of the highest order
Affluence, excellence and distinction affirmative, certainly
Royalty quickly comes to mind, yes aristocracy
If one were to choose a gem stone it would be blue sapphire
The sky has other qualities too such as eternity
She is all optimistic and invisibly strong
The distance from here to her is never long
She is faithfully associated with Christianity
If you have confidence and a little concentration
If you aim for the sky or go beyond your limit
If you rest assured that the everlasting God is in it
Then contemplating her will satisfy the imagination
