Skirted by billowing green
A cottage stands anciently tall, within
Wall after wall of neat chequered field.
Dwarfed by the presence of lush lovely land.
Green with rurality, nestled it stands.
Rolling great vistas fall
To a lake where watery mirror takes
The eye to the fluffy-white sky,
While motion reflects in pattern's great balm
Bluey-flecked changes on flat glassy calm.
What right in this Eden
Has one to imagine harm might befall
Such a land.? Here it stands, emblem to all.
Did good folk living there, sitting at night
At the hearth by the light of flickering flame
Imagine it staying the same.?
Believing it never would alter by war.?
Tough ancestors, hardy, would show
Despite fighting, by wielding the plough
They gouged their paradise, still blooming now.
you have capture the essensce of good old England her with great aplomp, your poetry at times appears timeless, you have a great way of opening your poems, they absorb the reader straight away, 'Skirted by billowing green A cottage stands anciently tall' just wonderful regards Vincent
Fay Fay! you have taken me to your England, a forest of bluebells in the spring, the greenest of grass, the permanence of stone, the beauty of the true English countryside, timeless! my dear!
How lovely, , a really nice piece, I can see it now .10 from Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fay, I remember cottages like this from my early childhood, roof gone, walls still proud and whole. One I recall had a greengage tree growing in the kitchen which was full of ripening fruit. A memorable write. Bob