Ode to a Blade of Grass

[Earnest Eremite]

Oh! whispering blade, ever hath your kin,
Swung and danced over grabbled graves of mine,
Where nightingales are oft enticed to sing,
To those mown down in regimented line,
Who once as barefoot lovers trod you well,
Then swore allegiance to a sovereign lie,
To fall in foreign fields where poppies swell,
Coffers in answer to a bankers cry,
'Tis true the sons of man can ill afford,
The blood they spill upon your verdant sword,

Still you embrace them all both friend and foe,
Line the verges that mark their pathways home,
From mist strewn glens to mountains topped with snow,
Through each sunrise beyond the evening's gloam,
Bejeweled with bright sparkling beaded dew,
You welcome them all and feel not their hate,
The atheist, christian, muslim jew,
You enfold them all in eternal wait,
Unconditional in your soft embrace,
Thou carer for the bones of every race,

You know full well that all things come to pass,
That in due time, to you everything yields,
If only men could stand as blades of grass,
Knitted together
in love's morphic fields,
Maybe then they would do all that they can,
To ensure they let not their freedom seep,
And walking now where as a boy I ran,
Moving towards my own eternal sleep,
Still, still I cannot for the life of me,
Understand why men must die, to be free.

[YesNo]

I enjoyed the sound of this. "Love's morphic fields" reminded me of Rupert Sheldrake's book, "Morphic Resonance".

[Earnest Eremite]

Thank you YesNo for your kind words. I have read a few articles via Waking Times regarding Morphic Resonance. It is something that I am keen to further explore. I must buy Rupert's book.
I am pleased that you enjoyed the sound of the poem. I feel that poetry is meant to be spoken out loud and as such strive to write in a way that encourages the reader to do so.

Once again thank you for being so kind and commenting.

[blank|verse]

Welcome to Lit-Net, EE.

Your ode is an accomplished poem, there's some craft behind the cross-rhymed stanzas of iambic pentameter and utilisation of the ode form. However, your use of archaic diction isn't my cup of tea, if I'm honest (perhaps your username was a clue in that department!), so I had problems getting through the whole poem, but I can still appreciate the skill is must have taken to write, and I'm sure there are others who will enjoy reading it.

[Earnest Eremite]

Hi Blank|Verse,

thank you for your comment. I take your point regarding archaic dictation, it is food for thought. I appreciate your honesty. Having hung around poetry forums where comments tend to be gushing plattitudes that fail to honestly criticise your comments are a refreshing change.
Once again thank you for taking the time to comment.

[Carousel]

Yes the sprinkle of medieval language doesn’t rest easy with the poem’s time set.

There is a poem here and it’s struggling to make itself felt but weighed down by forcing the rhyme which in some respects robs the line of understanding.
Example:
[I]You welcome them all and feel not their hate,
The atheist, christian, muslim jew,
You enfold them all in eternal wait—forcing the rhyme i.e. wait with hate—begs the question. Waiting! for what?
Unconditional in your soft embrace,
Thou carer for the bones of every race,


This isn’t an abstract poem; it seeks to define the futility of war so the subject demands clarity.
Advice-- Marry the rhyme to the meaning of the line

[Earnest Eremite]

Thank you Carousel,

you are so right I am guilty of forcing the rhyme. I was so pleased that I had written an 'ode' that I failed to look at it objectively. I fully intend to take your welcome advice and implement it in my future writing.

Thank you so much for helping me.

[Delta40]

I think you wrote this very skillfully with little emphasis on rhyme. I didn't mind eternal wait but I can see the sense of the question.

[Earnest Eremite]

Thank you for your kind words Delta40.
I must admit I spent last night kicking myself over the mistakes I had made, ie forcing the rhyme and use of archaic diction. If is heartening to have you say that it is skillfully written. There is hope after all.