Friday, January 3, 2003

Autumn Comments

Rating: 3.1

The thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still,
On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.
...
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John Clare
COMMENTS
sadhuram hansda 11 April 2019

Add a comment.SadhuramHansda

0 1 Reply
Amar Agarwala 02 May 2016

I like this work, a very different way of describing nature. Autumnal air fused with eternity.

3 2 Reply
Susan Williams 14 October 2015

He has a different way of seeing Autumn than many of the poets I've been reading. Without diminishing the effect of the others, I do like what he is expressing here.

25 3 Reply
Anish Debnath 14 October 2015

Very expressive of the heat of nature.Specially the first two lines of the last para is wonderful.

5 2 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 14 October 2015

Nice work with the ways of nature in Autumn.

2 2 Reply
Hazel Dunn 12 July 2012

A thought provoking poem, still current today.

4 3 Reply
John Clare

John Clare

Northamptonshire / England
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