Some great stuff tends to get lost in the comments section of this blog and every now and then I like to pick something out and highlight it upfront.
Paul Comerford is a Munro bagger who aims to write a poem about each hill bagged — as if just bagging them wasn’t bonkers enough. Anyhow, they are mighty fine poems!
Balusters of sandstone soar into Highland sky,
A crown of spears now clear, now gone,
A foundation of Lewesian gneiss,
Old built upon ancient,
With nought between except memory
Of land that was, Now sunk and twisted and eroded,
Gone, reformed and crushed,
Sculpted by hard blue ice,
Rasped in lines to knock and lochan,
Built tall again above, Mirrored in water cold and pure,
Reflected in Loch Maree.