Monday, August 16, 2010


by Gideon Burton

I've praised her beauty one too many times,
I fear, the rolling earth, her many lands and seas,
And overworked my meter and my rhymes
Attempting awkward portraits. Though she please
Me new each season turned, I have not learned
To sing as well as this her stream or breeze.
And if the sun some desert place has burned
Into a bitter dust by day to freeze
At night, I have some cloudy wetted verse
Allowed her or with heated stanzas set
Her right, as though with poetry to nurse
What centuries have marred and eons set.
         Do I invoke the spell or give it voice?
         My earthly home, so grand, I have no choice.

Image: flickr -Lady Bug

1 comment:

  1. To be able to evoke such a beautiful image from the place, where if the earth ever required lancing, it would be there, says a great deal about your inner vision.

    Had a great time tonight. Please apologize to your sons for the Death by Boring Adult Conversation.