We walked within an ancient wood
Beside the Heart-of-England way
Where oak and beech and hazel stood,
Their leaves the pale shades of May.
By bole and bough, still black with rain,
The sunlight filtered where it would
Across a glowing, radiant stain—
We stood within a bluebell wood!
And stood and stood, both lost for words,
As all around the woodland rang
And echoed with the cries of birds
Who sang and sang and sang and sang…
My mind has marked that afternoon
To hoard against life's stone and sling;
Should I go late, or I go soon,
...all around the woodland rang And echoed with the cries of birds Who sang and sang and sang and sang… Beautiful the word at least we could utter after reading!
Both lost for words The language of nature is so often spoken not with words but with shades of reverence and awe
To hoard against life's stone and sling; Should I go late, or I go soon. Nice inference. Thanks for sharing it here.
There are those moments in a nature setting that we feel outside our skin for a while and it is not that any momentous event happened other than we were at one with God's creation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Radiant stain! ! Thanks for sharing.