“The birds sang in the wet trees
And I listened to them it was a hundred years from now
And I was dead and someone else was listening to them.
But I was glad I had recorded for him
The melancholy.”
Patrick Kavanagh
though the trees are not always wet Robin tunes up quietly at first autumn mist in its throat a farewell melody to a faded season and blackbirds hymn the day is done high in a broadleaf tree though birds are not always so doleful one minuscule wren with a giocosa call can compose cantatas every Spring and Hardy's thrush threw gloom to the wind with carolling yet we who absorb the hue of blue note most the melancholy mood
Taking inspiration from a recently discovered poet – Patrick Kavanagh – and a little late entry for the Toad’s Tuesday Platform
What a wonderful reply to the source lines; and you create a lovely picture of your own.
thank you Rosemary – could not resist a response to this short piece of Kavanagh’s [have just bought the book “No earthly Estate” for more inspiration 😉 ]
This is gorgeous. I appreciate the blue most, I think, but this line is stellar: “Hardy’s thrush threw gloom to the wind with carolling”
Yes blue is my commonest take on the spectrum – perhaps I need a darkling thrush
” His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware”
yet we who absorb the hue of blue
note most the melancholy mood
I love this! Beautifully deep!
Deep blue 😉
Ah, how picturesque and melodious is this snapshot in time!
This is beautiful: “yet we who absorb the hue of blue/note most the melancholy mood”.
-HA
Many thanks and welcome HA