Walk between the husks of corn, coarse and currently inanimate,
And hear the whispering wind swirl, bringing to life
Things otherwise stagnate, though very much attentive,
While trees gently braid the hair of girls in white
And children dance around their roots
In circular uniformity to the wispy tunes of leaves.
A wet fence does not an English pasture make,
Though brown and sturdy it may be.
I wonder if my star will fall from happier places
And meet me once again.
I’ve no one to talk to.
He who knew the starry skies
And darkness blank is gone now.
I’ve still very much to say.
The branches lofty make me sad
With tears falling from infant eyes
And cries of owls perched on high.
And so, it goes for any child
Who dares to walk these fields of green
With no one watching at their side.
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Author:
Ethan (
Offline) - Published: July 19th, 2017 19:37
- Comment from author about the poem: I've been reading a lot of Auden, and I attempted to imitate some of his early work.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments2
Great write. This one conveys beauty and emotion. I'm not familiar with the work of the poet you name; you're inspired writing here would certainly indicate a very good muse .
You should definitely check him out. He's a 19th century anti-modernist poet. Sort of the opposite of Eliot.
Good write, W.H. would have been proud.
Thank you so much 🙂
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