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We climbed the hill
Turning to catch the glory
Of St Michael's Mount
Misted in the Bay.
Nothing for Wordsworth
Could have brought
More joy.
Brian Hick September 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 30.9.26
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Of course you're there but I will still wait
Until you tell me what I have to do,
Like some old prophet searching for the bait
To reel in converts daily, two by two.
Your silence in this noise of summer days
Rests on my heart, knowing you're aware
I'm eager to give more than simple praise
And worship, if you need me to share
The joy that comes from following the Way
The joy I feel in your abiding love
The joy that never fails or says me nay
The joy that floods like sunlight from above.
Your silence speaks more life than life can bring
Turning bleak winter to eternal spring.
Brian Hick July 2013
©copyright Sally Hick 14.7.25
From Cardingmill Valley to Pole Bank
Through Rectory Wood to Little Spout
Then on the Shropshire Path
Across heather and the moor
To Pole Bank heights at last.
The Malvern Hills are to the south
With Shrewsbury to the north
Cannock Chase is in the east
But the rain clouds force
Is gathering in western skies
To dampen our tomorrow
So, on the Longmynd for today
There is no time for sorrow,
I passed this way when just a boy
With David from next door
And felt we were the only ones
Who dared to explore
This silent valley with its rush
Of water on each side
And climbing up to hanging bluffs
There was no need to hide
The excitement and the joy we felt
At one with all the world
- short trousers and sensible shoes -
But spirits now unfurled
Across the wide expanse of gorse
On sheep tracks hardly seen
Climbing ever higher until
On every side the scene
Exploded, as it did today,
With, in the distant haze,
Places I have grown to love
United as the ways
Have come together in this place
A crossroad of returns
Where all the joy that I felt then
Once more within me burns,
Brian Hick 2009
©copyright Sally Hick 1.8.22
Dare I ASK?
A bruschetta of fried bread
And withered leaves;
A pasta of reheated penne
Chicken chunks and sauce
From dubious wild mushrooms.
But - ah but - at last
Fresh mint tea and all that one could ask;
Just mint leaves, frsh boiled water
Nothing else;
I can overlook the indifferent food
Tea, and the evening sun, makes all life good.
Brian Hick 2009
©copyright Sally Hick May 2022