keeping Sabbath and a poem on Saturday
O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
This is the perfect poem for me to read this morning as I will be harvesting our grapes today. Thank you!
ReplyDeletesuch a wonderful poem
ReplyDeletepleasant pic!
ReplyDeletemy weblog - http://u-c.fr
Beautiful photo and poem.
ReplyDeleteI just love Robert Frost! Hope you've had a lovely Sunday!
ReplyDeleteI've been reading here for a while now; yours has become one of my favorite blogs. This poem really captures the spirit of the season just now in New England (I live in Massachusetts, too). Wishing you Sabbath blessings.
ReplyDeleteI had never read this Robert Frost poem.
ReplyDeleteInterestingly, just today I was at the graveyard where Robert Frost is buried. It was a beautiful, cold fall day, complete with snow!
Thanks for sharing. :-)
Sometimes it takes life and experience to understand in my heart what a verse , poem, or song means. The last few lines about "for the grapes sake" rang true to me for the first time. We've been growing grapes for many years here but our weather usually dictates the grapes are too wet, moldy, or simply eaten before ripening by birds because there is almost nothing left fruit-wise growing. This long, hot, dry summer has led to a warm and dry fall and for the first time we have a bumper crop of grapes the likes of which we've never before had. Big, plump, bold, and the best tasting ever. Plus, there are so may ripe grapes even the birds could not eat them all , leaving me with abundant grapes to can.
ReplyDeleteThank-you for posting this poem reminding me of the blessing of autumn, and good writing.