Here's a poem for you about autumn, by John Clare, who had rather a sad life:
Autumn Birds
The wild duck startles like a sudden thought,
And heron slow as if it might be caught.
The flopping crows on weary wings go by
And grey beard jackdaws noising as they fly.
The crowds of starnels whizz and hurry by,
And darken like a clod the evening sky.
The larks like thunder rise and suthy round,
Then drop and nestle in the stubble ground.
The wild swan hurries hight and noises loud
With white neck peering to the evening clowd.
The weary rooks to distant woods are gone.
With lengths of tail the magpie winnows on
To neighbouring tree, and leaves the distant crow
While small birds nestle in the edge below.
John Clare
PS: Visit Shellmo's lovely log cabin site and enter for a giveaway on Monday! But you have to submit a poem or quote about autumn. If you haven't looked at my "favourite links" lately, Shellmo has two other quite gorgeous blogs, about her place in Northern Michigan, and her birding (amazing photography!) And no, Shellmo, I'm not just sucking up to win a prize! ;) I love blogs like hers, that combine interesting text with great photos and a beautiful blog design to boot. (Yes, I am the world's laziest graphic designer. I could have made this blog more attractive, but you know how it is... you're lucky I customized the header!)
A lovely poem! :-)
ReplyDeleteyes a sad life. :( the funny thing about great poetry though is that it doesn't usually come from just regular happy people. ..i'm sure there's some exceptions, but it really seems like there's always some major suffering involved.
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