The Present Poem by bryan wallace

The Present



The glorious September Sunday sunshine
Filters through a canopy of hazel leaves -
Casting shadows with it's warming rays.
Autumn has already come -
The leaves are changing colour - rich russet brown
The nuts are almost ripe -
Soon to be ready for humans, or squirrels - to feast.
The ripe seeded wild grass is dry where I sit,
In pleasant meditation - hard to believe this same spot
Remembered from childhood's winters with cattle
Taking shelter behind the whin-bushes
From sleet-laden winter winds - waiting
For the distinctive sound of the 3-cylinder Ford tractor
Bringing them their hay.

But winter's somewhere in the future -
I won't worry about it today. A relaxing day today.
Soaking up September sunshine - admiring nature's beauty
Looking around through the hazel and whin covered knowe
Or looking down along Bannstown lane's ancient bridal way
Lined with overgrown hedgerows - Chestnut, ash and hawthorn,
The derelict cottage gable poking through the gap.
The endless variety of colours on trees all along Carnowen hillside
Montgerry Forest and the grey stone of Raphoe town clock all contrast
With the fields of green grass and glorious golden cornfields.
The gentle scents of freshly cut grass and barley mingle
With the scents of the fruits of the trees and wild flowers.
I am enjoying the moment - I've stopped thinking of the past -
Stopped worrying about the future. Live for the moment.

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