Late June 

Edward Thomas (1878-1917) began to write poetry aged 36 and with a sense of urgency brought on by the start of the First World War. He died at Arras in 1917, having written his 143rd poem, but before his first collection was published.  At the sound of a shell passing his ear, his heart stopped dead; his death being the very symbol of a shattered, broken Britain. 

Poet, Walter de la Mare wrote of him, “England’s roads and heaths and woods, it’s secret haunts and solitudes, it’s houses, it’s people … were to him ‘lovelier than any mysteries.'”

His poem ‘Adlestrop‘ is the epitome of a beautiful, charming England in ‘late June’… here are some snippets:

‘The express train drew up’

‘The steam hissed’

‘Willows, willow-herb, and grass’

‘Meadowsweet and haycocks dry’

‘High cloudlets in the sky’

‘A blackbird sang.’

Ride through the English countryside by road or by rail & absorb the pleasures of a late June landscape that to Thomas was pure poetry, and to which (so true of so many) he would never come back to. The willow weeps…
  

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s