Golden waves rushed on in
upon a rusty Irish sky
as mother sang out across the land,
fading leaves strained on branches.
The swallows said goodbye.
Crunchy red apples, luscious green pears
they’re all reaching their peak.
They plop down with the changing wind
that belts in from the west.
It’s coming, it will be bleak.
Beautiful! ! Fall is one of the best times of the year and you managed to capture the best parts of it in this poem. Very nice. Sincerely, Mary
yeah, this poem is beautiful. Mixed with magical autumn scenes and melancholy, I'd say it rests atop most the poetry on PH...well done
this poem really attacks the senses and conjours up some brilliant images, i loved the rusty irish sky, again brilliant graham.
Another beauty, Sean...you caught the end of Autumn and the simple sentence 'It will be bleak, ' speaks volumes about the oncoming Winter. Good job. Raynette
I like the sense of rustic life that you create in this poem, and I think its really appropriate that the imagery reflects on the colours red and green. You've sort of given a tour of beautiful Ireland in just two stanzas - well done!
Very well written. Patriotism is more than obvious. The lush Irish landscape hits the reader immediately, and one can envision each and every line. Not overdone. Work on your meter. Otherwise, a very good poem. Keep up the good work - James
sean, i love this. you definitely have the talents. age will polish things up.
Fundamentally, I agree with Raynette. My only quibble regards 'rusty'.-I think some other adjective may be better for this nature study..
I enjoy this poem, it brings good memories to mind. Well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem has wonderful imagery and I adore the ending. Really lovely.