The Endless Bow by Martin Hanley.
And all the gentle aching of times golden bow,
Returns never-ending like a flame ever spreading.
We are bound, bound in the everlasting bow.
Canny, the river that runs from the sea,
Runs to the hilltop, sweet nectar running free.
Holding the silence, gently they flow;
Cares drifting endlessly, together must go.
Bending the Oxbow as a new dawn is born.
Found within the circle the breaking light of morn.
Copyright © all rights reserved Martin Hanley January 8th 2016 –