When You Come to the End of a Perfect Day.A Poem by JohnL
When You Come To the End of a Perfect Day
The green beneath my feet
glows warm in the afterglow of a perfect day
while sleepy wasps and bees
buzz – but softly – softly,
reluctant yet from sugared flowers to fly away;
arboured honey is suckled,
buddleia has yielded up its golden hoard
delighting hover-fly
butterfly, as even I
move my mind toward rest, this perfect eve’.
A gentle, song of the night
A nocturne – drifts from somewhere
Perhaps it lives inside my head - (they do, you know)
A night-bird sits above, ‘Night Music’ to share,
gentler even than its own sweet song.
All is at peace – peace rare in human throng,
yet welcome as I sit – and sip a sweetling brew,
weathered, heathered where other bees have supped and sipped
On moorland hill and island stream, which purled
And grew – and drew;
sweet water of the north, whose peat-imparted flavours now endue
my glass with cheer, then lull me
Into the stillness of the night,
wakening me – late - with cooling, soft-descending dew.
John L. Berry, 19 August 2009.
© 2009 JohnLAuthor's Note
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12 Reviews Added on August 19, 2009 Last Updated on August 19, 2009 Previous Versions AuthorJohnLWirral Peninsula, United KingdomAboutI live in England, and love the English countryside, the music of Elgar and Holst which describes it so beautifully and the poetry of John Clare, the 'peasant poet' and Gerard Manley Hopkins, which d.. more..Writing
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