Sunday, 31 May 2015

the mutable constant of green grass


he had run all the way 
to the verdant carpet

and, breathless, there -
flung himself upon 
the sprigs of grass 
that ruffled round him 
in green pacific breezes

and was, reunited with
that part of himself that 
stayed behind, tucked in 
the splendor of that secret 
world-onto-itself

and lay there, in awe,
in the fragrant depths 
and mystical solitude 
of that mutable constant 
that waited for him to return

as it always had …
for as long as he could recall.
"... every child can remember laying his head in the grass,
staring into the infinitesimal forest
and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies ..."
Robert Louis Stevenson

note:  posted for Poets United.

photos:  #1  Fairy Fellers' Master-Stroke (painted 1855–64) by Richard Dadd (in which each of the characters appearing in the picture is given a name and purpose that include a plethora of  references to old English folklore and Shakespearean plays) – public domain.

#2  The Mutable Constant of Green Grass - H. Bourke

 © 2015 Wendy Bourke


18 comments:

  1. Before I even saw the child after I knew it must have been a child as they can still appreciate such a simple wonder

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  2. Loved the images painted in this enchanting poem!
    xoxo

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  3. I loved every word of this piece Wendy! There is magic in this piece

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  4. This makes me think of my grandkids, and before that my own kids, lying in the grass, gazing up at the heavens, supremely content.

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  5. kids discover the beauty of lying in the grass at a young age as their imagination takes flight in that moment of being carefree.

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  6. So true...I remember lying in the grass of my backyard & also rolling down grassy hills. There is something about being close to earth in that way. Perhaps we, as adults, should lie in the grass again!

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  7. Such memories you brought me with these words,,,,

    'and lay there, in awe,
    in the fragrant depths
    and mystical solitude
    of that mutable constant
    that waited for him to return'

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  8. What a magical feeling you've capture here!

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  9. Maybe if we looked careful enough we would see those forest that we've lost.. What a wonderful feeling that would be.

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  10. What a captivating title - i hope perhaps a small part of us still waits

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  11. the innocence and curiosity of a child is always a wonder to me. you have perfectly describe their joy

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  12. I was so lucky as a child to do just that; to lie in the meadow and breathe in the freshness and look at the clouds and hear the birds singing and discover the world. A beautiful write.

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  13. love the idyllic world, a perfect setting for a child to drink in Nature...

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  14. Sometimes going home is like that. Other times the changes overwhelm us.

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  15. Wendy,

    Your poem returned my thoughts to childhood days spent at my grandmother's farm in the countryside. Some days I would walk across endless fields and then run and run...falling down onto the meadow pastures and taking in the wholesome fresh air...Escapism, even if only for minutes!!
    Eileen

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  16. Love the reunion with that part of himself that stayed tucked behind....what a throwback to childhood adventures this nostalgic line conjures up for me :-)

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  17. I specially admire this part Wendy:

    and was, reunited with
    that part of himself that
    stayed behind, tucked in
    the splendor of that secret
    world-onto-itself

    You have captured that magic moment when we realize that the magic lies inside us ~Have a good week ~

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