"iona" poems
Norway maintains a Viking history, where longboats travelled to the Scottish island of Iona.
Torch the abbey in the name of paganism, and you will be exposed to galactic prohibitions which have a flavour of eternal questionability. Can I please urge you, oh Norseman of ceremonial undertakings: If you ensure that you ride the sonar waves of superiority, then you will find beauty in those haunting chants of the Celtic glens.
Forgive me for being uncertain of my footings. I believe in classical symphonies.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
Look at her, midsection lines blazing
Heaving prow swollen with glittering ion beams
Her aft sections tight and proud
Bravely bolstering her posture as she surges into the fray
Battle joined, she calls the hunt with thunder
Heralding fell sensors' unerring gaze
For none in the skies who've caught her eyes
Have survived her deadly rays
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Feel the rhythm of those who row longboats from Scandinavian shores, in their plundering quests of arson and ****
Although stalactites may be used in the same manner as an icicle in order to commit ******
it is necessary to acknowledge that one weapon leaves a trace of evidence whilst the other evaporates into the firmament.
The wind is truly wild, as she kisses our skin with force, amidst the swell of marine visions beyond Ljodhus, Ivist and Skid, where Gaels reside in monastic solitude.
Have you ever been to the shores of Iona?
Please do not cut off your nose to spite your face, in the same manner as those nuns, who sought to be unappealing to Nordic barbarians.
The magic numbers are 795 and 802.
Therefore, if we seek to withstand the forces of contemporary evil, I suggest that we swiftly engage with Celtic Druids as they are our ancient forefathers.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Serene mountains
Majestic waterways
Quaint towns and colorful people
Your serenity is precious
Lush greenness
Joy and respect of Nature
Awe and wonder
Island devine
Stones of History
Abbeys and churches filled with stories
Incredible isle of Puffins
Seagulls await your lunch swooping down for take out
Celtic and Nordic charms and humbles locals
Enchants visitors
Respect and wonder at every turn
Culture and creature living in tandem
C@rainbowchaser2021
Sep 3, 2021
Sep 3, 2021 at 10:23 PM UTC
Hi my name is Iona Jessica Saunders and I write Blogs for a Hobby and Study at Amersham & Wycombe college I study Art & Design Level 2 With loads of other students who are Amazing People who look forward to seeing everyday.My course is Great I'm loving it so far so good , It's differcult but I'm enjoying it so far. The projects haven't been easy but i'm enjoying them.I also do my own photography I take photos of nature like flowers , sky or leaves sometimes people. I write poems occasionally when I feel like writing something funny or dark that rhymes.I'm 18 so I can drink occasionally at parties or on the weekend.I'm a vegetarian So I don't eat meat because I don't find it appetising , I've been feeling ILL for about 2 months now But I'll get through it.I also have paranoia which means i worry about everything like : Do i look okay or am i wearing the right things or am i acting normal enough.I worry about alot of stuff But I take the time out to relax and unwind.I think Life will get better no matter how much ******* you go through , no matter how many people you lose Life will always get better , if not you just have to keep trying.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
I took the afternoon boat from Oban to Mull
a bus to the far side of the Island
and pitched up my tent for three days.
The rain finally stopped on a Saturday morning.
I took the small ferry across the sound to Iona.
Here pilgrims feet for generations
have walked sunwise around the top a small hill
prayer and incantations, supplication.
St Columbus came over from Ireland
and preached the Good News all over Scotland
Iona where the veil is thin, his abbey stood.
Pilgrims ask the prayers of St Columba.
who pitched up his tent so many centuries ago
Iona, where the veil is thin.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Leonard swam amongst the basalt rock.
A music box of echo and tide,
***** pipes of molten Earth
petrified in place. He stood within
the natural cathedral and cleansed himself
of suitcases, old postcards, and
sweethearts, whilst the White Stranger
looked out for his sweet Iona.
Amy bathed her feet in the Sea of Stars.
She left her clothes on Conrad's
carpet and held plankton in her palms.
Freckles of light formed in a hand-held
pool. They bent and assembled into order.
She was the forgotten daughter
of fine wine and bold name tags,
until she left them for the salt and the sand.
Ryan sat in the sun with his shades on,
stabbing ice whilst making a call
to the office. He stretched out on his
day-drunk fortune, collecting souvenirs
and belly fat, double chins and photographs;
his wallet purging in the tourist trap
of old Van Dieman's land. He thought
that he'd escaped her prison, a long time ago.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
end epic, iota hardly seen in an endemic order,
but Angelic, coz Iona is the heartbeat of an eccentric daughter
University of life is puking the adversity in my file,
I covet the philosopher’s stone…
coz’ eternity is nigh, while the City
dies from this Covid in the esophagus, throat
Suddenly, the World seems so ominous
about what was solemnly written in the Word,
greed so oblivious…
And history will probably
repeat itself if we don’t prostrate,
and end this misery properly
coz’ in death, We don’t
'post straight'
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC
Upon high throne the Iona queen doth sit
From lofty seat she lauds over us all
The servile answer to her every call
She wields a most authoritative hit
None shall try to take her top position
For she is regent of the regal realm
Verily preordained twas her supreme helm
We subjects recognize this condition
Our eyes are trained on her everything
Wavering our attentions must not be
She wears the crown of importance so well
Hail her reign may it continue to ring
The peoples of her land filled with glee
Her majesty hath a rule which is so swell
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
the veil between the spiritual and material worlds is thin here
you can feel the gentle touch of eternity reaching through to touch your soul, your soul vibrates with love, a silent song, a dance, a meeting, a homecoming, a setting free, the unlocking of all secrets, the fusion of everlasting peace.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
There once was a gal named Alvina
Who lived in a shoe in Regina.
She wanted some tea
That was straight from the tree,
So she shoveled a tunnel to China.
Oct 14, 2023
Oct 14, 2023 at 4:22 PM UTC