Something told the wild geeseIt was time to go,Though the fields lay goldenSomething whispered, "snow."Leaves were green and stirring,Berries, luster-glossed,But beneath warm feathersSomething cautioned, "frost."All the sagging orchardsSteamed with amber spice,But each wild breast stiffenedAt remembered ice.Something told the wild geeseIt was time to fly,Summer sun was on their wings,Winter in their cry.
Sunday.’s poem : Something told the... - Lung Conditions C...
Sunday.’s poem
There were Canada geese in our local park yesterday and I wondered if they would soon be leaving or are part of the groups that have taken up residence here.
I hope that you are doing as well as can be Iris although I'm sure that you miss Tony tremendously. Sending love, Carole xx
nice to hear from you. Yes, met him when I was 16, married in 1956, it’s a big change in one’s life. My sons are my life now, able to do very little in the garden but they help so much. My youngest son lives in Australia he has a son and a daughter, they were here recently and it was lovely to all be together. Love Iris x
It was a long partnership with Tony Iris, full of so many memories. I am glad that you have the support of your sons
A beautiful poem Iris befitting this time of year. As always I’m sending love and thinking of you dear lady.
Take care xxx💞💞
Thank you for posting this lovely poem Iris, shame we cant fly south for a warmer winter. Wishing you well x
Wonderful. There is something so magical about watching a skein of geese. I think they take it in turns to head the group, like cyclists in the peloton in a race.
I once wrote an articles about geese and got more response than from anything else I wrote!!
Thanks, love and hugs, dear Iris
Kate xxx
just wish my new iPad copied a poem in poem style, not prose. My daughter in law converts it for me but I trouble her enough!
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,—‘Snow.’
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,—‘Frost.’
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly,—
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
That’s lovely for this time of year. I haven’t come across it before. There are thousands of geese on a nearby lake and every year I dread the day I visit and they’ve left. I shouldn’t, because it’s all part of “life’s diurnal round” isn’t it (Wordsworth is my favourite poet!) I looked at your profile and see you post a poem every Sunday! That’s very kind of you and I will look forward to it.
I’m so sorry you lost your husband. You must be a very brave lady ❤️
We have a lot of Canadian geese near us, I often watch them at this time of year. That is a beautiful poem thank you for sharing. Have a lovely day and take care 😊 Bernadette and Jack 🐕 xxxxxxx 🌻🌻
Loved the poem. Here in darkest Essex we have wild geese arriving to spend the winter, coming all the way from Siberia. Sadly for me, if not for them, I don't find it easy to get down to the coast now to see them. I'm dreading this winter, because bird flu has now reached Essex and sociable birds like geese could be decimated. xxxx, Chris
thanku.enjoyed this
Lovely poem, thank you😊
great poem for this time of year. X