Ivor Gurney

(1890-1937 / England)

Larches


Larches are most fitting small red hills
That rise like swollen antheaps likeably
And modest before big things like near Malvern
Or Cotswold's farther early Italian
Blue arrangement; unassuming as the
Cowslips, celandines, buglewort and daisies
That trinket out the green swerves like a child's game.
O never so careless or lavish as here,
I thought, 'You beauty! I must rise soon one dawn time
And ride to see the first beam strike on you
Of gold or ruddy recognisance over
Crickley level or Bredon sloping down.
I must play tunes like Bums, or sing like David,
A saying out of what the hill leaves unexprest
The tale or song that lives in it, and is sole,
A round red thing, green upright things of flame
It is May, and the conceited cuckoo toots and whoos his name.

Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Do you like this poem?
1 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Form:


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Larches by Ivor Gurney )

There is no comment submitted by members..

Famous Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  3. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  4. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  8. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
Trending Poets
Trending Poems
  1. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  2. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  3. If, Rudyard Kipling
  4. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  5. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  6. Tonight I can write the saddest lines, Pablo Neruda
  7. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  8. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  9. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  10. 'Hope' is the thing with feathers, Emily Dickinson
[Hata Bildir]