song in silvery descent
beats in sweet repeats
the tug of lodestones,
the clamant lure
of westward-leading
winding winds,
I sing the binding beck
of springing grove
and blooming troves of heather,
let the tune renew
the sweet enchantments
the road has written
upon my straying shade,
in engaging turns,
in immeasurable measure,
render the notes that lead
back beyond between
to that garden without walls
and the elemental charm
of the wanderer wending home
© Sarah Whiteley
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Beautiful. This sounds, in itself, like a celtic song in the making…
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that’s funny, because I was completely thinking of Ireland at the time… 🙂 Interesting how that carried over in a way
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Some lyrical feeling to this poem: it feels like the flight of a bird.
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thank you! I like that analogy very much
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“render the notes that lead
back beyond between
to that garden without walls”
so melodious, so altogether romantic. i like, i like, i like! 😀 xx
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Another in the quintessential ebbtide poetic style. A strong poem in your oeuvre. I need to spend some time pondering just how to describe your style, because you certainly have one.
How do you describe your poetry when people ask, Sarah? Because I am…
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You’re sweet, Robert Lew. Thank you!
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i overlooked this one. aw “the notes that lead
back beyond between” all light & yes let’s hear those!
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