THE FOREST GREEN: At Eventide    
 At Eventide5 comments
pictureThursday, July 8th 2004, by Marissa A Spencer

At Eventide

It was eventide and I sat watching the sky
I could see the trees waving in the breeze
Three ducks flew over, going west
I was thinking, if I could do as I please
I would seek the when, where and why
Bringing my soul to life’s test

Yet, I sat, doing none else, but to listen
Closing my eyes, while the children played
I could still feel the soft caress of air
I thought again, what price I’ve paid
By melancholy having been bitten
That life was ne’er good or fair

I know that what else may be
There will be trees softly rustling
Ducks will still fly an evening ride
It will all be here in spite of me
Yet we spend our time bustling
As children play at eventide

© July 8, 2004 Marissa A Spencer



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5 comments

8 Jul 2004 @ 12:43 by vaxen : In spite?
Nature does not 'spite' little flower of poetry. Melencholia is a Victorian dis-ease. Not at ease with something in your life? Here, where I live, there are lots of lakes and riverlets, rivers and streams and dreams.

Deep, dark, delicious dreams. Yet also there is covenant. Such as the ones I've made with all the landed water fowl that fly in for the winter from all around the world. Some of them have remained behind such as the Canadian geese that now have made nest down at our harbour. Each time I go there and walk the harbor round they greet me and say hello.

The beavers, too, have built for themselves a very fine house which acts like a dam and changes the water course flowing into it. From our stream, that leads from the Mountains down to our lake, the beavers have diverted the waters into our pond. Nice of them eh? It took years of trust to get them to stay.

Then there are my Heron friends. I've a big Blue Heron friend who guides me down the river, on occasion, flying just at the prow of my boat, showing me the way...

Then I've a big White Heron friend who lures me off into the deep eddies of the far away lake where he fishes. When he flashes signal to me I know good things are on the way...

Fortunately I do not bustle
Fortunately I still hear
the sounds that the tree frogs make
deep in the night before dawn...

***********
peace is a state of mind
and there are some who would destroy it
and call it life as it should be

I would like to see such tranquility. Perhaps I shall sneak off for a walk at the river some early weekend morning.  



8 Jul 2004 @ 13:58 by shawa : I DO read...
Don´t always comment, but I DO appreciate your poems, Marissa. :-)
I love the feel of your log.

************

thank you.. Your log is awesome. I always read yours, but do not feel I am always qualified to post in them... I read most of the top 15 of them as a matter of fact. I know people read some of my stuff, I don't worry about it. I am not as prolific a writer as I was, back when I could relax more.  



8 Jul 2004 @ 16:11 by celestial : The poem
And the picture go together so well. Very nice.

**********
thank you !
:-)  



9 Jul 2004 @ 03:34 by vaxen : So modest!
Take a bow, now, Marissa...see, people love your stuff! Now get busy and write, write, write! Who said you should worry about it? It is for you lady! Maybe this is just the tool you need to bring some `re-''lax''-a-tion' back in to your life. I sure wish you all the best and a speedy re-covery. ;)

*************
I shall endeavor, thanks.. encouragement is always appreciated!  



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Other entries in
Saturday, August 1st 2015: At the Bat of the Eye
Sunday, February 16th 2014: Fearful Geography
Wednesday, December 19th 2012: Fairy poems....
Monday, May 3rd 2010: poem. Gathering Roses
Monday, September 22nd 2008: Turning (poem)
Friday, July 25th 2008: In the Garden
Sunday, June 15th 2008: Beyond
Sunday, June 15th 2008: The Food Prayer
Sunday, June 15th 2008: Between Here and There
Wednesday, May 28th 2008: poem: we are dancing



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