Under the Great Oak

Waltzing with the great oak leaves, 

the summer winds shake wood and dell. 

Violets rise to kiss the sun 

as if by fate compelled.

 

Across a brook the poppies watch 

as golden autumn comes to rest. 

The dying day, felled by night, 

inhabitants return to nest. 

Midnight born, the winter snow, 

under English dust the acorn lies 

as nature's cataclysmic edge 

sees death, but the seed shall rise 

and once again in spring shall bloom. 

The river swift in silver gleam 

with pastures lush and warmer days 

in a hazy summer dream.

Reviews

[Robert Haigh]

Some poetic images here. The opening lines set the tone and the mood for what is to follow. Nice job!

[Carlton McRae]

Thanks Robert, much appreciated.