Autumns Peace Poem by Ray Moore

This is the life l love to lead, this is the life l led l roam among Gods early peace, while the laggard lies abed,
Never with more gladsome mind, do l hear the blackbirds song
And yet with ever small regret, feel time move me along.

The white owl floats on silent wings, two feet above the grass
He turns before the hedgerow, to allow another pass,
His brood sits waiting patient, on a high ledge in the barn
While a cocks crow breaks the silence, from a distant sleeping
farm.

Denuded ash trees line the banks, their dead leaves fall like
tears
Then settle soft upon the flow, and drift away like years,
Like host of tiny galleons, some skitter on the breeze
While many line the squirrels drey, to keep out winters freeze.

A hooded crow sits high aloft, surveys the land around
The daffodils no longer dance, the rooks no longer sound,
The droning of the bee has stopped, the grasshopper has gone
And a vixen coughs within the hedge, then silent travels on.

The chaffinch call no longer sounds, the cuckoo too, moved on
And the wild goose meets with kindred souls, impatient to be
gone,
The magpies search the hedgerows, for some creature in distress
While in the brook, the trout will weave, among the watercress,

Wild ducks float silent on the pond, with heads tucked neath
the wing
The pale sky lighting up the east, the thrush will cease to
sing,
The linnets last songs, loud and sweet, a partridge eyes the
sky
For strike of winged assassin, like lightning bolt from high.

The lambs no longer gambol, and the sheep are in the fold
While birds feed on dead thistle tops, their wings are striped
in gold,
l lean on rustic cattle gate, and watch the sky grow red
As grey lag fly, on half lit sky, across some distant sedge.