A Pastoral


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.



  • Gary Edward Geraci

    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 .

    • Ethan

      You should definitely check him out. He's a 19th century anti-modernist poet. Sort of the opposite of Eliot.

    • Goldfinch60

      Good write, W.H. would have been proud.

      • Ethan

        Thank you so much :)

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