Village boy Impressions

The sun is a shy fella in Bergen  Hiding behind hills and clouds,  He sneaks across the sky  Obliquely.  Afraid to show his handsome face  To the elegant ladies of the city  So the clouds weep nonstop  Bleeding rain that fall and fall  Falling from Fall to Spring  Even the Summer is not spared. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - A Walk Through the Park Sometimes the sun emerges though!  And everyone is both surprised and elated!  To see his smiley face at last.  Everything comes to life then!  Work and chores must wait I think  For homes and shops are emptied  And Parks and hills are filled!  Their seams bursting with happy smiley people  Lying, sitting, rolling, all basking in the sunlight.  For it is harvest time  One must harvest as much sunlight as possible  Before the drunken sun gets sober and shy  And run to hide again behind a cloudy curtain And the heavens hang their washing out to dry.  Bergen, City of Hills

A city on a hilltop cannot be hidden!  But this city is not on a hilltop  Bergen is at the bottom of hills  Pressed from all sides by rugged hills  That lie like  sleeping  giants.  Visitors stand in awe of them.  Beloved by the children of the city  Who walk not but run up and down  The rugged slopes all day nonstop! Read:  Village Boy Impressions - My First Snow Ah Bergen! What a city! I should never tire Of gazing at the little houses The red, yellow, white homes That litter the quiet valleys Stretching into cracks and crevices Strewn along the slopes of countless hills From whose tops countless lakes lie. A visit to Bergen is incomplete Without a hike up the seven sleeping giants Fløien the beloved and Lydderhorn Blumanen, Rudermanen, Sanvidkfjellet Løvstakken with the spectacular view And Ulriken that towers above them all! Up their slopes all day long Not one of them is ever lonely For

Not for death! Not for death!  But for life among the deathless  In ageless, changeless, greener lands Where no stain nor tear can abide Therefrom your labour, you rest,  Robed in glory.  But on this hallowed spot of Balansa,  Lies your mortal remains;  Agandin, son of Adaayomah,  Loving father and devoted husband.  In that hour set with your maker,  But unbeknownst to us mortal men,  You made your bow in peace and quiet. Read Here:  Village Boy Impressions - Father's Epitaph You were the fountain of life  The light of hope The captain in life’s ocean,  My biggest fan and coach.  Under your watchful, caring gaze I raced with the swift Your words of caution  Lending motion to my little feet. But in my innocence,  I forgot you were my force of gravity.  You ceased whilst I was in mid-race Now I have to lift my own foot And bring it down! Alas for me! The blazing sun did set at noon! The eagles stopped in mid-flight The birds quieted in mid-song Even the c

Only this morning,  As the smiling sun  Emerged from behind the horizon,  Grinning as the bearer of glad tidings,  And all ready to run his race,  I awoke and stretched and yawned. As the light of this joyous sun  Gave life and healing to all creatures  And me,  I stood and with one more stretch,  Stepped to my locker  To prepare for the coming day. Grabbing my toothbrush, I rummaged for my paste. Then paused as I saw it in the corner. All empty, twisted and mangled  In a million angles and curves, it  lay,  But nay one more squeeze I must Before it is done with. That I did give it with much effort too! After a hurried scrubbing of the gums, I emerged ready to breakfast. But only one bag of the beloved Lipton, Lay alone and solitary in the packet. That I placed in my mug. The milk too was only a spoonful. But the sugar, yes the sugar, Alas! the sugar ran out! I did shook and scratched And at last washed the jar To sweeten my tea.