Inspired by the Masefield poem Jacqui posted today, here is my selection for this week. I love the visuals painted by this poem. Visit Jacqui for her Poetric Journey for Wednesday here.
On Eastnor Knoll
Silent are the woods, and the dim green boughs are
Hushed in the twilight: yonder, in the path through
The apple orchard, is a tired plough-boy
Calling the cows home.
A bright white star blinks, the pale moon rounds, but
Still the red, lurid wreckage of the sunset
Smoulders in smoky fire, and burns on
The misty hill-tops.
Ghostly it grows, and darker, the burning
Fades into smoke, and now the gusty oaks are
A silent army of phantoms thronging
A land of shadows.
- John Masefield
6 comments:
Yes, an excellent selection. I think I must take some time and read more of his poetry.
I can almost smell the smoke.
There is something about Masefield that makes one want to read more.
The imagery is wonderful. It's the best kind of poetry. And the picture...wow!
yes...this poem takes you on a journey.
Thank you all. The picture is one I snapped from my deck facing the Great Salt Lake and Antelope Island earlier this summer when we were enjoying spectacular sunsets courtesy of some volcano halfway around the world.
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