A Pastoral

The lost are loved like silver ribboned presents under golden trees.

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.

 

Author's Note

Reviews would be appreciated :)

Reviews

[apennylate]

Goooorgeous, my friend, you are fast becoming something to keep an eye on... Currently inanimate I find ravishment in the fact that darkness can animate banishment... The child walks alone to the cries of owls in the moonlight... You caught me at the first line, and kept reeling me in. From the starry green to the gentle sway of corn... Or who even knows what I am saying anymore... Beautifully penned...

[Ethan]

Thank you Silente :)) Appreciated as always

[T.S. Sky]

Your soul is old, old soul you are. Your work is magnificent.

[Michael G. Smith]

Love it. You took me along on a path into your world.

[barleygirl]

This is stunningly graceful & heart-tugging! I found myself wishing I could write this way. I have a constant battle inside becuz I'm regimented (recovering technical writer), but learning to let my writing flow. This poem of yours is an example of the perfect amount of whimsical, but also with a message that's relatable & compelling. Your metaphors are in the same vein, but only loosely connected, so as to splash some wisps of paint in the reader's mind, but not the whole picture, leaving room for the reader's mind to wander. This is a rare talent.

[.]

The strength in this piece is your lush description and visual imagery.

I long to walk those fields of endless pasture someday. There is something captivating about wandering amongst all that greenery.

Certainly has the tone of a Frostian piece, but i doubt he walked the English pastures for inspiration.

A nice write.

[Ethan]

Thank you :)) Several people have said this sounded like Frost, but I was really going for early era Auden.

[Tony Jordan]

A very nice write indeed Ethan. Bravo

[Ethan]

Thank you very much

[Tom Aubin]

A Robert Frost feeling throughout the whole poem. I really enjoyed reading it. Thank you Ethan.

[Ethan]

Thank you :))

[Ethan]

I was going for Auden though xD

[Lotus Flower]

I love the imagery you display ma cherie! I'm absolutely at a loss for words, great job

[Ethan]

Aw thank you :)))))

[wordman]

a very deep write ethan,i loved it

[Ethan]

Thank you :))

[wordman]

my pleasure