Today's poet

[stevefoster]

Great poem MG. September, best month of the year cos me birthday's in it:thumbup:

[Einar]

Lovely stuff Mountain Goatess, and very appropriate for today.

Here's another old (but very sad) poem with a moorland connection, from Gaelic folklore.

The Hare

Whoever reads my testimonial,
I was unquestionably virtuous,
Without gloom or servility
In my nature.


I would not eat rank grass,
What was food for my kind
Was the fine herbs
Of the moorlands.


My cap, though it be reddish,
Was beloved by ladies,
And my haunch, though cold,
By gentlemen.


'Tis a sad tale to tell
That I am tonight laid low
And that my brain-pan
Is being mangled,


After they had removed my coat
Right down to my paws,
And roasted my carcass
On embers.



Not thus was I at
The Martinmas season
Frisking and sporting
Mid the rough hills.


Without thought at that time
That the villain would come
With his gin to ensnare me
In the gloaming.


I was at home on the heaths
Where my father and ancestors
Were sportive, merry
And spirited;


Nibbling the blades of grass
On rounded slopes and moors,
Though I fell into the snare
Which was grievous for me.


Alexander Carmichael

[Alf]

Lament

no more the curlew's bubbling cry
long since flown west
and summer passed by
rain tears are wept
by the moorland sky
as the heather fades
and the flowers die
oh what will become
of you and I?

Now that's very good Hes

[Alf]

September

The golden-rod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook,

From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes' sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
And autumn's best of cheer.

But none of all this beauty
Which floods the earth and air
Is unto me the secret
Which makes September fair.

'T is a thing which I remember;
To name it thrills me yet:
One day of one September
I never can forget.

Helen Hunt Jackson

good selection MG. I came across an old post of yours the other day.
http://forum.fellrunner.org.uk/showt...dle#post293678
Great poem

[Mountain Goatess]

good selection MG. I came across an old post of yours the other day.
http://forum.fellrunner.org.uk/showt...dle#post293678
Great poem

Thanks Alf...shame it's not my own work! I do love the candle poem too :thumbup:

[Hes]

Cheers Alf! Am in a wistful kind of mood.

Now that's very good Hes

[Harry H Howgill]

All wonderful stuff on the last page. On the subject of time, I hope this makes you smile - by Piet Hein, a Great Dane who thought about time a lot.

Timing Toast

There's an art of knowing when.
Never try to guess.
Toast until it smokes and then
Twenty seconds less.

Ha ha. I like that Einar. Wise words.

[Harry H Howgill]

Lament

no more the curlew's bubbling cry
long since flown west
and summer passed by
rain tears are wept
by the moorland sky
as the heather fades
and the flowers die
oh what will become
of you and I?

Lovely poem Hes. It was a gorgeous day today, but autumn is on the way.

[freckle]

Lament

no more the curlew's bubbling cry
long since flown west
and summer passed by
rain tears are wept
by the moorland sky
as the heather fades
and the flowers die
oh what will become
of you and I?

this is gorgeous Hes...hope you are well, feels like we haven't caught up in yonks!

Some great choices on here over the past 24 hours I can barely keep up!...personally I love september and autumn although I can appreciate it has a rather melancholy tone.

[Hes]

Hi HHH, it was beautiful today but I can feel the autumn melancholy creeping in!

Lovely poem Hes. It was a gorgeous day today, but autumn is on the way.