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Long View Cottage

The view is long and dark atop the mountain where I roam.
Birds sing a little sweeter in a high and softer tone.
The people gave it many names; I only call it home.

The fog hangs thick and wet just like a wave crest with sea foam,
And like the fog the world will cloud our senses till we groan.
The view is long and dark atop the mountain where I roam.

Some causes are not lost up where their souls are rich as loam.
Like buds I bloom my best on high where all my seeds were sown.
The people gave it many names; I only call it home.

Up here I learned the faith of old, of Italy and Rome,
And standing on the bluffs I watch the vast modern cyclone.
The view is long and dark atop the mountain where I roam.

The silence of these heights has capped the place within a dome,
Where sun melts red and gold until the heart of God is shown.
The people gave it many names; I only call it home,

And I know where it is, a lighthouse shining bright as chrome;
Escaped the storm below and to the mountain I have flown.
The view is long and dark atop the mountain where I roam.

Down deep in Dixie is that rock, resisting like an ohm.
I see it in my dreams at times, and if I feel alone,
The view is long and dark atop the mountain where I roam—
The people gave it many names; I only call it home.

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On Bluffs That Rise Up Steep

Pursue the heights; defend what is not cheap,
The high ground goes to those who have backbone.
Man’s at his best on bluffs that rise up steep.

Stray fears assail, and mount into a heap,
So, rally ‘round the hill made up of stone.
Pursue the heights; defend what is not cheap.

A few ascend the rocks and learn to weep,
Those men can laugh while others low will moan.
Man’s at his best on bluffs that rise up steep.

The shades of death may darken what is deep,
As sun sets low the valley is not shown.
Pursue the heights; defend what is not cheap.

Our faith’s a task, we build with each tough leap,
Like wildcat’s scaling cliffs who go unknown.
Man’s at his best on bluffs that rise up steep.

Release what ills, and friends are what he’ll keep,
His rise above is not attained alone.
Pursue the heights; defend what is not cheap.

There is no place to pause and go to sleep,
Astride the hill, it’s obvious he’s grown.
Pursue the heights; defend what is not cheap.
Man’s at his best on bluffs that rise up steep.

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Gregory Ross is an emerging poet and a pilot who lives in Stafford, Virginia. 


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4 Responses

  1. Joe Tessitore

    Good poetry is a joy to read and this is good poetry.
    The fact that you are a pilot seems to influence your work – thank you for sharing it with us.

    Reply
  2. Jeff Eardley

    Gregory, as an Englishman living near to our own Stafford, I enjoyed reading these and Long View Cottage sounds like an amazing residence. I enjoyed the consistent rhyming and thought you may run out, but “resistance like an ohm” is wonderful. As someone else who is “at his best on bluffs that rise up steep” I thank you.

    Reply
  3. Margaret Coats

    These are villanelles of unusual form, as I’m sure you know. In my collection I have only one other of seven stanzas; here I thank you for two more. “Long View Cottage” is doubly unusual in using the fourteener line. And it resounds deeply for anyone with a long perspective on life and faith and history–especially when that viewpoint is “home,” a place that cannot be left and that one would never want to leave. The two refrains are perfectly written to be returning lines. The third stanza, on causes that are not lost when the seeds have been sown in souls “rich as loam,” is magnificent. Both poems offer strong encouragement to take up and maintain holy confidence.

    Reply

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