By the Lake-edge in Morning Calm

I nipped down to fill the billy for breakfast
And as it gurgled full, I stopped to listen;
But there was nothing to hear in the skies' silence
Bar the waves licking lightly along with a sandy hiss
Whispering idly on down the beach,
And rising trout breaking the surface
At swarming sandfly bundles, hovering in crowds over the Water.
Fresh dewy steam rose from the driftwood, mistily,
Catching the coolness of Autumn's rays and
Vanishing quickly.
I turned, skipped back up the beach,
Waking to the peace I was part of.

G.S.

I picked up my iceaxe the other day,
And, well, what is there left to say?
Of course I'll slice the snow again,
Everyone has ways they're not quite sane.

G.S.