I think of feet tramping and treading waved hills,
Of stories, songs and poems stone tracks inspire,
Of creatures great and small that shout and trill,
Of men and myths of monsters, faeries, giants.
A million years and more, they’ve stood to brood,
A vale eruption, ridgebacked, raw and proud,
They beckon, call upon us to intrude,
And haunting bluebell oceans trumpet loud.
Yet when I climb those verdant slopes once more,
To see the valleys spread out far below,
T’will be like searching for an ancient shore,
That seeing through a spyglass cannot show,
The light and shade illuminated when
My eyes are dim and I shan’t come again.
Polly Robinson © 2013
Posting on dVerse poets for Open Link Night with Brian, Week 80.
Malvern Hills: Bluebell wood (Photo credit: English Journeys)
18/01/2013 at 15:16
Very Wordsworthian (with a bit of Blake thrown in for good measure). Bluebells is the thing I miss most about England – it’s just the most glorious show. Flashes of blue through the forest.
18/01/2013 at 15:54
It won’t be that long until it’s bluebell time again ~ cheery little flowers to look forward to
18/01/2013 at 15:25
Very Irish….:)
18/01/2013 at 15:56
heh- heh … I’ll take that as a compliment
18/01/2013 at 16:00
It is very much a compliment
18/01/2013 at 16:05
I like the final line. It can be humbling to live amongst grandeur.
18/01/2013 at 16:13
A good sentiment, Joe
18/01/2013 at 16:15
Thanks!
18/01/2013 at 16:31
Oh! And to reply to Jaz. We Irish are born with poetry in our hearts and lyrics on our lips. Polly you would be very welcome amongst us!
18/01/2013 at 16:42
Aw … that’s a nice thing to say Joe *blush* ~ I’ve been to Dublin once and never been near the blarney stone ~ but for sure you have sir!
18/01/2013 at 16:46
No I have not! That is for the foreigners who don’t have the gift of the gab. We Irish are born with it!
18/01/2013 at 16:56
Oh, well, you’ll have to excuse the ignorance of a foreigner ~ I thought whoever kissed it became even better at gabbing
18/01/2013 at 17:45
No No! That is the spiel. We are just already are about as loquacious as you can get.
18/01/2013 at 17:39
You do write about nature so well Polly.
18/01/2013 at 17:50
Ah, that’s a nice thing to say, thanks Holly x
18/01/2013 at 17:44
Enjoyed, Polly!
18/01/2013 at 17:50
Thanks Jamie.
18/01/2013 at 19:35
So very atmospheric!
Fabulous
18/01/2013 at 20:50
Good to see you liked my latest sonnet
19/01/2013 at 04:05
All of the above, but for me it;s the word “spyglass”. You just don’t see words like spyglass in poems anymore.
19/01/2013 at 04:19
heh-heh ~ you do in this one Seb …
19/01/2013 at 19:41
a beautiful sonnet, Polly.
19/01/2013 at 22:46
Glad to see you thought so, Jane
22/01/2013 at 23:35
i felt a mystery hidden between your lines…. a story within the story, perhaps
22/01/2013 at 23:44
Always, oh, always …
There is more to everything than is seen at first glance ~ thanks for visiting and for your thoughtful comments
22/01/2013 at 23:36
oh very nice..a lovely sonnet…i oft think when i am out of the stories that graced these hills before me and my country is young and does not have the same history as say europe…oh to visit there and walk with the old stories….
22/01/2013 at 23:46
If only the stones and rocks would tell of their secrets and the earth give up its mysteries … But then, would our world be such a curious place?
Thanks for your thoughts, Brian
23/01/2013 at 00:28
A lovely sight, I’m sure.
23/01/2013 at 06:44
Thanks for your comment, Laurie.
23/01/2013 at 00:33
oh how beautiful, how wonderful it’s to get lost in nature and imagine all who walked the same earth…just loved this one!
23/01/2013 at 06:48
That’s the exact feeling …. I would find it impossible to walk those hills and not think about those who came before and will come after.
Thanks for commenting, pleased to see you enjoyed the sonnet
23/01/2013 at 01:31
I got a sort of storybook feeling here. Nicely done.
23/01/2013 at 06:49
Ooh, I like that it has a storybook feel for you, Gretchen
23/01/2013 at 05:20
nice…i like how you mix the ancient history and saga with the personal here…well done..and the form works so good as well with the topic
23/01/2013 at 06:52
Yes, there’s something just ‘right’ about nature in a sonnet, glad you think so too.
Thank you, Claudia.
23/01/2013 at 08:37
…anything that talks about nature is always pleasing to me… a solid sonnet… smiles…
23/01/2013 at 14:36
Had a mental hiccup over the word ‘solid’ Kelvin ~ but since you say ‘anything that talks about nature …’ I’ll take it a something good
23/01/2013 at 14:14
Your beautiful sonnet has made me feel nostalgic for the Malvern Hills and most of all a bluebell wood.
23/01/2013 at 14:34
Have you been to the Malverns, Tiger? I thought the bluebell woods were a good reminder, this time of year, for better things to come …
23/01/2013 at 16:23
Beautiful – the poem and the hills.
23/01/2013 at 16:51
Glad you enjoyed the sonnet Myrna