Fitful gusts that shake the casement

Edgar Alwyn Payne Sycamore in Autumn

Here’s another wonderful poem by John Clare:

I love the fitfull gusts that shakes

The casement all the day

And from the mossy elm tree takes

The faded leaf away

Twirling it by the window-pane

With thousand others down the lane

I love to see the shaking twig

Dance till the shut of eve

The sparrow on the cottage rig

Whose chirp would make believe

That spring was just now flirting by

In summers lap with flowers to lie

I love to see the cottage smoke

Curl upwards through the naked trees

The pigeons nestled round the coat

On dull November days like these

The cock upon the dung-hill crowing

The mill sails on the heath a-going

The feather from the ravens breast

Falls on the stubble lea

The acorns near the old crows nest

Fall pattering down the tree

The grunting pigs that wait for all

Scramble and hurry where they fall

“Autumn”, John Clare (1793-1864)

Published by ahiggins2013

poet, birder, senior citizen, cancer survivor, Catholic sister. Eight books of poetry published: At the Year’s Elbow, Mellen Poetry Press 2000; Scattered Showers in a Clear Sky, Plain View Press 2007; chapbooks: Pick It Up and Read, Finishing Line Press 2008, How the Hand Behaves, Finishing Line Press 2009, Digging for God, Wipf and Stock 2010, Vexed Questions, Aldrich Press 2013, Reconnaissance, Texture Press 2014, and Life List, Finishing Line Press, 2015.

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