Wild flower walking

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#JohnClare wild flower walking.

The crooked stile with little steps that aid

The climbing meets us & the pleasant grass

& hedgerows old with arbours ready made

For weariness to rest in pleasant shade

Surround us & with ecstasy we pass

Wild flower & insect tribes that ever mate

With joy & dance from every step we take

In numberless confusion all employ

Their little aims for peace & pleasures sake

& every summers footpath leads to joy

The beauty of trees

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#JohnClare - and the beauty of trees.

The woods how lovely with their crowds of trees

Each towering over each like hills oer hills

The oaks excess for darkest covert made

The mind with a sublime of pleasure fills

Then winged ash more sparingly displayed

A lightness oer the pensive eye distills

Fields, and poppies

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#JohnClare - fields, and poppies.

The wild weeds choke the straggling ears,

And motley gardens spread;

The blue-cap there in bloom appears,

And poppies, lively red.

But now my footsteps sidle round

The gently sloping hill,

Now falter over marshy ground,

Yet Nature charms me still

Genius of the woods appear...

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#JohnClare - back in the woods.

While I brush the branches by

& this woods still ways forsake

Woodland spirit meet my eye

Genius of the woods awake

Breath[e] thy wildness in my ear

[To thy trees] I do belong

Genius of the woods appear

Sound thy roughness in my song

Looking up

 

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#JohnClare - looking up.

SUNDAY

The sabbath day of every day the best

The poor mans happiness a poor man sings

When labour has no claim to break his rest

& the light hours flye swift on easy wings

What happiness this holy morning brings

How sweet its opening on his view does steal

How sweet the village bells first warning rings

& o how comfortable does he feel

How sweet to wander now

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#JohnClare - wandering in June.

The season now is all delight,

Sweet smile the passing hours,
And Summer's pleasures, at their height,
Are sweet as are her flowers;
The purple morning waken'd soon,
The midday's gleaming din,
Grey evening with her silver moon,
Are sweet to mingle in.
While waking doves betake to flight
From off each roosting bough,
While Nature's locks are wet with night,
How sweet to wander now!

Of the dandelion

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#JohnClare - of the dandelion.

Tis May and yet the March flower Dandelion 

Is still in bloom among the Emerald grass 

Shining like guineas with the suns warm eye on 

We almost think they are gold as we pass 

Or fallen stars on a green sea of grass 

The[y] shine in fields on waste grounds near the town 

They closed like painters brush when even was 

At length they turn to nothing else but down 

While the rude winds blow of[f] each

Accursed Wealth

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#JohnClare - true in 1820, still true today.

 Accursed wealth oer bounding human laws 
 Of every evil thou remains the cause 
 Victims of want those wretches such as me 
 Too truly lay their wretchedness to thee 
 Thou art the bar that keeps from being fed 
 & thine our loss of labour & of bread 
 Thou art the cause that levels every tree 
 & woods bow down to clear a way for thee

Back in the woods…

 

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#JohnClare back in the woods.

Spirit of the woods awake

In thy wildest dress appear

Trace with me the curdled brake

Sound thy wildness in my ear

Genius of the woods that dwells

Sweeping boughs & grains among

As I climb thy rough rude dells

Breath thy roughness in my song

Looking up… at the kites.

 

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#JohnClare looking up at the kites.

The chick & duck & gosling gone astray

All falling prizes to the swooping kite

& so the story runs its round both morning noon & night

Nor sabbath days no better thoughts instill

Image from dear friend #CarryAkroyd 

On the banks of the Welland.

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#JohnClare on the banks of the Welland.

Flow on winding river in silence for ever

The sedge & flags rustle about in a bustle

You are dear to my fancy thou smooth flowing river

The bullrush bows calm & theres peace in the hustle

          As the boat gently glides

          Oer thy soft flowing tides

As the young maidens sail on a sweet summer day

A sea of buttercups

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#JohnClare and a sea of buttercups.

How sweet when weary dropping on a bank

Turning a look around on things that be

Een feather headed grasses spindling rank

A trembling to the breeze one loves to see

& yellow buttercups where many a bee

Comes buzzing to its head & bows it down

& the great dragon flye wi gauzy wings

In gilded coat of purple green or brown

That on broad leaves of hazel basking clings

In praise of the humble daisy

 

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#JohnClare in praise of the humble daisy.

While on the sunny bank the daisys seem

With smiling charms to court the clowns esteem

Nor do they spread their smiling charms in vain

His bosom warms enrapturd at the sight

With secret pleasure & unknown delight

His swelling soul to memorys treasure flies

& strives to speak—but Ignorance denies

Clare defining his Eden

 

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#JohnClare defining his Eden.

O native endearments I woud not forsake ye

I woud not forsake ye for sweetest of scenes

For sweetest of gardens that nature coud make me

I woud not forsake ye dear vallies & greens

Tho nature neer dropt thee a cloud resting mountain

Nor water falls tumble their music to thee

Had nature denyd thee a bush tree or fountain

Thou still woud bin lovd as an eden by me

Tree roots

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#JohnClare finding beauty in old tree roots.

The woods again how sweet,

To find the peace which freedom finds,

And from the world retreat;

To stretch beneath a spreading tree,

That far its shadow shoots,

While by its side the water free

Curls through its twisted roots.

#JohnClare by a Brook.

Fair grows the tree by the side of the fountain

Green green grows the grass in the falls of the plain

Sweet smells the thyme on the caps of the mountains

& sweet from the woods thrills the Mavis his strains

The fair dripping branches & grasses green blooming

Adorn the cool fountain & carpet the plain

& molehills of thyme the wild mountains perfuming

Still do they bloom but to please me in vain

Mavis = Thrush

My @Mastodon post today

 You will find me on @RogerRowe5k@Mastodonapp.uk

A new forum to spread poems, news and information about John Clare.

Early Rising (excerpt)

While offering help to climb the stile

A modest look & winning smile

(Love beaming in her eyes the while)

Repay'd my early rising

Aside the green hills steepy brow

Where shades the oak its darksome bough

The maiden sat to milk her cow

The cause of early rising

The wild rose mingling with the shade

Stung with envy clos'd to fade

To see the rose her cheeks display'd

The fruits of early rising

The kiss desir'd—against he[r] will

To take the milk pail up the hill

Seem'd from resistance sweeter still

Thrice happy early rising

(lines 29-40)

Shadows of Taste

#JohnClare finding beauty everywhere…

Then village childern seeking after toys

Their clownish hearts & ever heedless eyes

Find  nought in nature they as wealth can prize

With them self interest & the thoughts of gain

Are natures beautys all beside are vain

But he the man of science & of taste

Sees wealth far richer in the worthless waste

Where bits of lichen & a sprig of moss

Will all the raptures of his mind engross

(lines 102-110)

The Firwood

 The fir trees taper into twigs and wear

The rich blue green of summer all the year,

Softening the roughest tempest almost calm
And offering shelter ever still and warm
To the small path that towels underneath,
Where loudest winds - almost as summer's breath -
Scarce fan the weed that lingers green below
When others out of doors are lost in frost and snow.
And sweet the music trembles on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear,
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.