God’s perfect little time machines

Gold cherry
Image: 

By Robert Craven

Sun, 20 Sep 2026
  • 295 reads
8 comments
 

Rose and sunset dark, the stars and satellites spin above.

Mists and fogs linger moistening, ploughlands, fields and bogs,

Displace the whisperings of the bees;

God’s perfect little time machines,

Bridging physics, bridging time fade out towards the autumn equinox.

 

The year’s end slides like a black-out screen as Samhain bonfires blaze.

I watch the morning, grey; the mackerel clouds, cirrus whisps,

Like dreams of inconsistent intensity, of aspirations unfulfilled,

I pull my dressing gown tight about me,

And contemplate the light.  

 

 

Certificate U
Poem
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

This is so beautiful and perfect for the time of year.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by insertponceyfre... on

Wonderful imagery Robert, and a perfect response to the Inspiration Point (not sure if you wrote it to fit that?)

 

Submitted by Robert Craven on

No, Mark, thanks for the comment, Been working on it for a few days, and just posted up.

Robert Craven

Submitted by Turlough on

Who doesn't love the bees? So 'God’s perfect little time machines' sums them up so well.

Lovely poem!

Turlough

Submitted by celticman on

ah, bees. little time machines? hmmmmmmmmmmm. sting in the tail. 

 

Submitted by marandina on

"I pull my dressing gown tight about me,

And contemplate the light."  

 

Wonderful imagery and I love those last two lines, in particular.

A very fine poem indeed. 

 

Submitted by marandina on

This is today's Facebook, X/Twitter and BlueSky Pick of the Day.

Congratulations.

 

Submitted by Robert Craven on

Thank you so much! Honoured

Robert Craven