In stillness deep, where shadows fade,
A heart unfolds, its prayer displayed.
Beneath the hush of dawn's embrace,
I seek Your light, Your sacred grace.

No incense burns, no chants arise,
Just gentle breaths, beneath the skies.
The whispering leaves, a verdant choir,
Echoing hymns, my soul's desire.

I close my eyes, let thoughts take flight,
On feathered wings, bathed in Your light.
Through tangled webs of doubt and fear,
Your presence shines, dispelling tear.

The river's song, a calming flow,
Washes away the seeds of woe.
In every grain, in every stone,
Your touch I feel, I am not alone.

The mountain's peak, a silent guide,
Points to the heavens, vast and wide.
And in the stars, like diamonds set,
Your love unfurls, I can't forget.

No words can speak the awe I find,
In nature's art, You fill my mind.
A grateful hush, a whispered sigh,
In this communion, You and I.

So let me dwell in this retreat,
Where soul and spirit gently meet.
A meditation, pure and deep,
In Your embrace, forever I will sleep.

And when I rise, with light renewed,
Your love will carry, understood.
A silent vow, a whispered song,
A meditation with God, all life long.

Upon the hills of Nottingham, where castles kiss the sky,
A tapestry of time unfolds, beneath the centuries sigh.

Stone whispers tales of Robin Hood, of arrows swift and true,
Of Maid Marian's gentle grace, her heart forever blue.

Through winding lanes and cobbled streets, the echoes softly roam,
Of craftsman's hammers, merchants' calls, and whispers whispered home.

The Trent, a silver ribbon, winds through meadows lush and green,
Reflecting sunlight, dappled leaves, a tranquil, vibrant scene

On Robin Hood's Way, the forest calls, with verdant boughs held high,
Where ancient oaks and sunlit paths, beneath the blue sky lie.

In caves where miners toiled and sang, their stories still reside,
In echoes on the cavern walls, where secrets gently hide.

And as the dusk paints shadows long, the city lights aflame,
Upon the hills of Nottingham, a whispered, timeless name.

For here, the past and present weave, a magic in the air,
A city with a beating heart, a story to declare.

So come, dear wanderer, raise your cup, and let the stories flow,
Upon the hills of Nottingham, where dreams forever grow.

hands
that
lift
the
tidal waves
thus
move an ocean of love

to
hold
a light
in
the dark
while
hope is the only one

why
dose war
leaves
scars and pains
on
the
souls of feet

throughout
the night
while
flashing by
with
dazzling flight
the
fireflies
with
splintered light

the
earth
is
a tiny grain of sand
in
the
palm of God's hand
Yes
He has the world
in
His hands