“England”

Soft lines of pure history worn;

all hard edges smoothed,

forgiven by the passing of time.

All judgements, victories and shame

covered in the reclamation of emerald green;

the triumphant essence of a beauty

lost and won over centuries,

long after man’s selfish ambition has died.

My blood shivers green,

recognising the gentle climbs

that echo my soul’s inclination.

It may be the illusion of smudged horizons,

and the not-so-distant shore

that soothes me;

or the gentle autumnal changes

that don’t hurry me;

the deep reliable evergreens

that cradle my natural reserve.

Is it merely the appreciation of a place

my eye has never seen?

Or the recognition of something

my heart has always known?

And the promise of the poetic gentleness

of an English summer….

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s