Fjordscene Poetry

What cares it of our musings, the lake, as there it lies in the shadow of its mountain and rolls its round, moist eye?

Our little, human protests seem ever more obscure; but when Nature comes to protests even politicians care!

Here comes progress! Here comes speed! Marvel as you see it pass – all the same, don’t be impressed; it has not been made to last.

The slopes are lost in mist and all we see is now and here – the day will fade to dusk and youth will age, and leaves will wear… And yet it seems impossible that any part of Nature, any […]

The end of our journey is now within our sight. Exciting or boring, long or slight depends alone on vision – it’s in the eyes that see. Blame your boredom on no-one; you’re what you want to be!

Out, blueing in the distance and paling to my view a range of tempting mountains and cool tree-shadows too – I wish that I could go there and hide from worldly view, I wish that I could go there just […]

My native ocean under skies that, nearly overcast now shows a timid spot of blue that grows while all the rest in sunrise is coated yellow, orange too. Out on the waves I know so well I see a ship […]

What an evening, what a sunset! Skies that shine above and brood below in deepest purple, pink and red that deepen the ships’ silhouettes – I’ve stood there too, there on that beach, admired that same, well-known sea, watched fire […]

Set sails, steer out and face the sea; my dream and too my memory – the darkened waters seen at night or at ethereal moonlight – alone out on the silent sea there lies my heart; there let it be.

A harbour like the one next to my childhood home – behind the masts of anchored ships the sunset shone – I need not see a painting to see such a scene; if I just close my eyes I know […]

Leant over, looking out – appreciate the view! I know I cannot order you (through two whole centuries) thereto but “see!”, the ocean beckons you; it draws you like it draws me too.

Summer, autumn, trees and Earth; winter, spring, the land, the sky, the wind; the leaves that fall and re-appear, the grasses fade then flower too but you? You still stand there Pavillon, where they planted you; there you look on […]

The midday shadow falls on walls that’s weathered both by time by nature and the hands of Man. The empty windows oversee the yellow summer grass and trees from height whereunder we inevitably end up feeling small and times we […]

A midday heat-haze blurs my gaze; now all is still and mind is free to daze beneath the birch tree like in a childhood memory.

Appearing out of fog a boat approaches land – a common sight to Danish eyes that, from the distant strands of memory in greeting wants to raise a hand.

Do not approach the hill whereon the oak trees grow; there underneath the stones and underneath the snow is resting unknown people from times left far behind; mind say: “it’s safe to go there,” heart: “you’re out of your mind!”

A misty morning – sunrise glows on mist and clouds and overspills on this one hilltop with its rocks and trees as morning mist is torn by morning breeze.

I made a drawing years ago where I stood, back towards the viewer facing a cloud-covered sea; how strange then to discover such long time afterwards that I had lost by well 200 years and that the motif wasn’t mine…

Curling branches, barren twigs outlasting seasons’ changes – mist and snow and weathered walls and weathered gravestones under evening’s ill-foreboding skies could never outlast you, oak trees, you stood there long before them and long after their time you’ll probably […]

A weathered, nature-tempered rock adorned by mosses, crowned with trees stretching stiffened branches out to reach the top that is withheld from reach – A wonder to remember that the treetops came and went and were returned to their original […]