After Rain
The rain of a night and a day and a night
Stops at the light
Of this pale choked day. The peering sun
Sees what has been done.
The road under the trees has a border new
of purple hue
Inside the border of bright thin grass:
For all that has
Been left by November of leaves is torn
From hazel and thorn
And the greater trees. Throughout the copse
No dead leaf drops
On grey grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern,
At the wind's return:
The leaflets out of the ash-tree shed
Are thinly spread
In the road, like little black fish, inlaid,
As if they played.
What hangs from the myriad branches down there
So hard and bare
Is twelve yellow apples lovely to see
On one crab-tree.
And on each twig of every tree in the dell
Uncountable
Crystals both dark and bright of the the rain
That begins again.
Stops at the light
Of this pale choked day. The peering sun
Sees what has been done.
The road under the trees has a border new
of purple hue
Inside the border of bright thin grass:
For all that has
Been left by November of leaves is torn
From hazel and thorn
And the greater trees. Throughout the copse
No dead leaf drops
On grey grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern,
At the wind's return:
The leaflets out of the ash-tree shed
Are thinly spread
In the road, like little black fish, inlaid,
As if they played.
What hangs from the myriad branches down there
So hard and bare
Is twelve yellow apples lovely to see
On one crab-tree.
And on each twig of every tree in the dell
Uncountable
Crystals both dark and bright of the the rain
That begins again.
Edward Thomas
Lovely - thank you. Even we are getting worried about the level of rain. Not sure we're going to make it into town tomorrow!
ReplyDeleteHaving seen the weather forecasts for your part of the world BB,
ReplyDeleteI can only say that this is a beautiful poem and I hope you still love it in spite of the weather wich is attacking you at present.
Keep safe Em. I think the West Country had it worse than us - first before us anyway!
ReplyDeleteWeaver - it was nasty here today - strong winds (well, strong gales really) and persistent rain. I bet our river is well up tomorrow. If it's over the lane, we will have to go out the top way . . .
Lovely descriptive poem and very true - since last night virtually all the leaves have gone off the trees. Was wondering how you have gone on as I know it's been much worse where you are. Thank you for your letter - a lovely surprise and I'll answer it soon.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem three cheers for Edward Thomas for painting word pictures ;)
ReplyDelete