Penny's Poetry Blog

A Boy and His Dad A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip — There is a glorious fellowship! Father and son and the open sky And the white...

The Pastoral Pilgrim For me the town sets forth in vain Her painted pleasures in a train, For I arise and go To a delicious world I k...

July I am for the open meadows,     Open meadows full of sun, Where the hot bee hugs the clover,     The hot breezes drop and run. ...

Summer Rain Thick lay the dust, uncomfortably white, In glaring mimicry of Arab sand. The woods and mountains slept in hazy light; ...

A Rainy Summer This year we had no time for commune sweet,     With spires of snowy chestnut overhead; I lying, with the bluebells, at...

After Summer Rain All day the rain has filled the apple-trees,      And stilled the orchard grasses of their mirth, Turning these acre...

Hymn XX: For Summer-time Now the glories of the year   May be viewèd at the best, And the earth doth now appear   In her fairest g...