Flower Field

Pass daily through the flowered field,
As if the loss of such a place
Would cause the beating of your heart
To cease, appalled to lose its grace.
The buds will soon fade with the light
The crickets drag their emerald wings
The stream that borders in between
Be passed with snowflakes' ivory rings.
Smell yet the poppy's fragrant throat
The wind that passes through the weeds
And fingers feet of butterflies
As they flit through the riffling leaves.
Walk daily through the flowered field,
Or autumn, with her fallen face
Will paint the wild roses brown
And turn to winter, in its haste.

His Beauty

Pale white woods in hazy rains
Snow that tears the woodland lanes
Herring iced with frosty foam:
This is what I dream of, when alone.
Thick green trees laced thin with sun
Roes with sides of heaving dun
Skies, eternal, splashed with blue
This is what I dream of, when with You.

Daily Posts

I just wanted to mention quickly that I'm planning on posting daily (except perhaps on Sundays) to, hopefully, increase my followers.

Please feel free to list me on your own blog rolls. I'd really like to have a few more followers, since 3 of my own mysteriously disappeared recently.

Many thanks,

August

Silent Night

The silence of the moonlight
Slips through the empty sill
A quiet that is telling
Of loads of time to kill.
The warm, eternal hour
Beats wind against the pane
And floods the lawn with power
Of heads of rushing grain.
A mockingbird sings softly
A tune that no one knows
And buds burst into blossoms
Beneath the starlit glow.
It seems all drooping silence
As if no creature stirred
But slowness is the novel
Of evening worm and bird.

Approach of Autumn

Free, let loose to smell the sod
To see the lightning's falling rod
To hear the cataract in foam
To feel the passing gray of gloam.
Free, unshackled in the light
To see the beauty of the night
The curving scimitar of moon
The deep intake of breathing noon.
Free, and thus, in freedom found
The warm brown touch of hallowed ground--
The one small scrap of heaven's earth
Present here in autumn's birth.

The Isle of Avalon

Avalon, you remain
In everything I see
Every spreading autumn sky
Every winging bee
Avalon, dear Avalon,
Isle of my dreams
Arthur claimed that you once reigned
Past the flooding seas---
No, I think not, Avalon
Here your truth is seen
Blue in streams that twinkle on
Through the verdant scene
Dancing with the hooves of goats
Wild in the rills
Flying through the jutting rocks
And the weedy hills.
Avalon, dear Avalon,
Pure and heaven-blest
Each and every golden star
Still recalls your rest
Every daffodil that blows
In the summer breeze
Seems to bend its darling head
Like your shining leaves.
Avalon, dear Avalon,
Stay, and keep me close
Every dream I've ever dreamed
Listens for your notes
Every field of swaying grass
Every cobalt night
Whispers out your harmony
Echoes of your light.

Changed

Careless was I of the tempered wind
Of the light that the autumn seas had sent
Of the tender sod, and the flooding brook
And the growing chick in his hidden nook.
Careless was I of the bending reed
Of the creeping lynx and the cracking seed
Of the fallow deer with his hoof of bronze
And the splintered moon on the wild lawn.
Heedless to see in the splitting skies
With their lightning strikes of the cobalt eyes
And the frightened fall of the shimmering trunk
Through the streamlets dark, and the rivers drunk.
Careless was I---and I felt no peace
From the cry of wolves at the flight of geese
At the change of scent in the summer breeze
Or the flow of ferns on their amber knees.
No, I never knew, nor in knowing, cared
That the feast of snow had arrived prepared
And the season laughed at the cost of cold
From the dripping rain to the crumbling mold.

Changing Month

The thread of summer draws away,
A ball of color, fades and grays...
And leaves that once were gold with growth
Have fallen, brass, upon the coast.
The curving mouths of shores are seen
In silver tides instead of green
And somewhere, jackdaws cry, "It's come!"
The winter, with her friend autumn.
A hope, a hope in winds remain
That heat still tempers out the rain
That life, however brief its course
Continues on, though sounding hoarse.
A bluebird turns his little eye
Surveys the lawn, the field, the rye
Its salmon beak seems yet to say,
"Oh, summer, won't you come to stay?"
With memories of open skies
And stroking wings, and breezy sighs
It seems a cruel act of God
To change the color of the sod.

Back to Creation's Joys

Errant heart, remember me:
The lonesome dove, the flitting bee
The curving sun, the moonlight's sphere
The changing month, the turning year.
Errant heart, remember me:
The flying star, the foaming sea
The shapeless cloud, the ardent rose
The summer heat, the winter snows.
Errant heart, remember me:
The jagged hill, the casting green
The velvet fawn on bended knee:
Return, dear heart: remember me.

River

Wild the river, faster the flow
Dozens of torrents weave stories below:
Quickly, the heart of the swift-rushing flood
Gentle admission of ocean's white blood.
Startled the sunlight from pale summer beams
Rippled and ripped from its heavenly dreams
Careful, yet careless of life in between
Earth and the skies, skies and the seas.
Fearless the cord of the crumbling falls
Freed from the earthenware banksides and walls:
Peerless with thunder, dauntless in time
Federal blue with its saltwater shine.
Endangered by beauty, encompassed by force
Curling and growing and swelling its course;
Daring to alter no tidal or wave
A life-giving wonder, a trembling grave.