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Wilfred Owen (1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)
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I Know The Music
All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:
Bugles that sadden all the evening air,
And country bells clamouring their last appeals
Before [the] music of the evening prayer;
Bridges, sonorous under carriage wheels.
Gurgle of sluicing surge through hollow rocks,
The gluttonous lapping of the waves on weeds,
Whisper of grass; the myriad-tinkling flocks,
The warbling drawl of flutes and shepherds' reeds.
The orchestral noises of October nights
Blowing ( ) symphonetic storms
Of startled clarions ( )
Drums, rumbling and rolling thunderous and ( ).
Thrilling of throstles in the keen blue dawn,
Bees fumbling and fuming over sainfoin-fields.
Read poems about / on: october, music, autumn, snow
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Anyone who thinks this is a good poem knows nothing about poetry.
The sounds of life harmonize for the willing listener.
a transcedent poetic piece, carefully thought out.totally like the simple diction and the endrhyme
An interesting fragment. Owen used a number of the ideas, most notably the bells, in his more famous Anthem for Doomed Youth (qv) . I'm sure someone will correct me if I am wrong but I think this might be an early piece written before his war experiences, at any rate the contrast in style is stark and most revealing.
Words project a heighten sense of reality, in a melodious musical word formation of feelings.
Music of Nature is wonderfully observed and expressed in this nice poem!
This is not Owen at his best. It reads like a first draft.
Very nice has a great flow. Nice job.
Gloria J Comingore
This is a most beautiful poem. I am honoured to have read it. I can hear the bells ringing....now I must read more of your poetry.