I Saw the Meadows Dancing
Meadows sweet were dancing to the orchestra of May,
The section known as wind was sweet in flow,
Strings of forest branches, the lyres of stalk and reed,
Make merry tunes when zephyr breezes blow.
The prelude formed a pirouette of blossom gaily blown,
Whilst stork and swallow waltzed their wings away,
We two sat blessed and silent, we listened quite content,
To melody and dance of bluebells sway.
A babbling brook was chorus as it danced across the field,
Then waltzed in bubble dress to high amuse,
Till zephyrs of the eventide might rest upon the day,
Then forest breeze would play its soulful blues.
The cornfields copper-golden swing to sweet lament.
Whilst placid flowing rivers hum and play,
Their evening lullabies shall still the infant’s cries,
Until the stars come gentle on their way.
Such harmony of nature, so peaceful joy to see,
As breeze sings sweet and low on soldier’s grave,
Pastures join the forest then the sands of pebble shore,
To join the dance of gay abandoned wave.
And here I hope my love to take
Me for his lifelong bride,
To sweep me to the meadow’s ballroom floor,
Then join me in the forest waltz,
Behind me all that stands as false.
But you, my land my bridesmaid be.
Till soul with wings shall set me free.
Michael (Walsh) 24.01.14