GREY THOUGHTS.

When I am stretched beneath the pines,
When the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools and the learned clan;
For what are they all, in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet?

Another grey looking day today, so much for the promised good weather, perhaps it will turn up next week once were all back at work. I took a walk this morning to collect the Sunday Papers, strolling through the gardens at the end of the Grove I started to ponder on those souls now not with us, perhaps it's the colour of the sky thats brought on todays melancholy, with all the doom and gloom in the press at the moment reading the news will only make things worse.