Late October's brown, red and golden bliss;
Flashes, fragments of cottages and trees;
Small islands afloat in the smoky mist;
Unmarred by the blasts of the centuries.
A shaft of soft light penetrates the gloom,
And points at a solitary sail boat.
What has brought me to this place? Is it fate?
Amidst the world's troubles, a glint of hope?
Sunset turns the lake to liquid scarlet
A swan transforms into a silhouette.
Beneath mountains and stars I feel so small,
At odds with these bloated times so near;
Yet so out of reach; with too many walls;
Where artificial things hide our fears;
I watch the water cascade tumultuously,
Over rocks, under overhanging branches.
Everything flows like silver studded dreams.
I'm at one with a Spirit that enchants.
Here, the putrid spectres of the past
Can't haunt me as I'm blessed by Nature vast.
Such a beautifully written poem Dominic. The lake District is such a stunning place, you captured that.
I like your wonderful poem. After reading it, I am in the mood to travel to Lake District.
Your poem is beautiful and written by an experienced poet. Beautiful images matched by words that flow gently off the tongue when read. I appreciate the comparisons between this beautiful Earth and the difficult times we are currently living in. The references to walls and water that flows and escapes all is freeing. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dominic, this is a beautiful poem. Not only a great recreation of a lovely place, but also carrying an undercurrent of your state of mind and the contrast between the peaceful lake and the turbulent world. Well done!