Samuel Palmer’s Evening Church
In the summer evening’s stillness
under the calm
of the the sickle moon
Evensong is softly sung.
The gentle breeze
catching only the occasional sigh
On the evening’s air.
The hope of summer
rests in the gently rolling hills,
the golden sheaves of garnered corn
and the lushness of the blackberries
in the hedgerows.
With solemn seriousness
Nature sighs
and as the evening cools
the silence of the scene
is pierced occasionally
by God’s evening hymn.
A great poem Roland. The last hope for summer here has faded and we will skip right into winter. The flowers, fruit, berries and leaves are not going to get the chance to show us their glory.
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Thanks for your comments Jerry. Just returned from a Baltic cruise. I am looking forward to the glory of my Virginia Creeper, just beginning to turn red.
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An excellent accompaniment
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Thank you, Derrick.
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