The sylven waste lies cold, no sound it makes
In stony vales, seems light hath found no stay
Then dawn with rosy-colored fingers breaks
Upon a land ‘fore dipped in hazy gray
Then stabs the pinks, the reds, colors of dawn
As expert warriors sparring in a fight
Oh Birds! Oh light! Oh dawn! The morn doth yawn
And rise to chase away the ink of night
And on this field of battle comes the sun
That fire of fires, pure seed of purest heat
To look upon a story, ceaseless spun
And leap from day to day new worlds to greet
Now rise, O world, take up thy plow and shield!
Like day, look back, recall the dark did yield
Comments
*sees Damaris’ comment* Oh! Welcome!!
Welcome to ApricotPie!! :D This is a fantastic poem and I absolutely loved it. You did a great job!
“planting seeds inevitably changes my feelings about rain.” —luci shaw.
psalm 84:10 esv.
Welcome!
I like the unity of theme and also the "turn" -- the last couplet which draws an application to our lives from the sunrise.
Now rise, O world, take up thy plow and shield!
Like day, look back, recall the dark did yield
Sometimes in poems on nature it can be hard to come to any any conclusions beyond "the world is beautiful." But the connection between sunrise and the war against "darkness" is very natural.
And he was just wondering, for he was a severe critic of his own work, whether that last line couldn't be polished up a bit...
~P.G. Wodehouse
Hullo and Welcome!
This is a gorgeous poem with masterful imagery! Each stanza was a pleasure to read, but I have to say that the very first and last ones were the most beautiful :) Looking forward to reading more from you!
Welcome to ApricotPie!! XD
Jim! I’ll just say again how much I loved this. You took my breath away, and that is a rare kind of beautiful. :) haha I’m pretty sure I’m legit proud of you, and I (selfishly) am taking 12\% of the merit for this poem. I figure it’s fair since I’m the one who forced you to write it, anyways. :P
That fire of fires, pure seed of purest heat
To look upon a story, ceaseless spun
^^^Fav lines right there. Please write more poetry soon! I’m obsessed.
I don’t thrive off of chaos: chaos thrives off of me.