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The English countryside has inspired English poets since medieval times when Chaucer first bent his muse to the pastoral joy of Spring with his "Loud sing Cuckoo". For me October, that melancholy season of "mists and mellow fruitfulness", is a time for pensive reflection.
As the leaves turn to gold and begin to fall and scatter in the gathering winds, I make for the now deserted beach nearby. There I am alone to walk in the pale sunlight with the screeching gulls and the sullen roar of the surf. English nature poet Edward Thomas was struck down before his time in the killing fields of World War I. Mars claimed him as trophy in the bloody 1917 Battle of Arras. His muse was perforce the roar of cannon amidst the beastliness of war. But before he died in the stinking mud of Flanders he penned this most beautiful poem to an English Autumn that he was never to see again.
There are many friends and loved ones who think of russet Autumn leaves and dew-hung gossamer webs in England - New Hampshire or Oregon - as they soldier before their Flag in service to our future freedom in the choking dust and harsh landscape of Afghanistan right now. We pray that they come safely home. Edward Thomas's October is one of number appearing in The Daily Telegraph Book of Trevor McDonald - Favourite Poems (Michael O'Mara).Tel: 0870 155 7222, (UK) Order from Telegraph Books Direct, Units 5 & 6, Industrial Estate, Brecon, Powys, LD3 8LA, UK.
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