Edward Thomas

Oct 8, 2024 | poemsancientandmodern.substack.com | Edward Thomas |Joseph Bottum

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedToday I thinkOnly with scents, — scents dead leaves yield,And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,And the square mustard field;Odors that riseWhen the spade wounds the roots of tree,Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,Rhubarb or celery;The smoke’s smell, too,Flowing from where a bonfire burnsThe dead, the waste, the dangerous,And all to sweetness turns.

Aug 30, 2024 | celebrateblufftonandbeyond.com | Edward Thomas

By Lynne Cope Hummell,Edward Thomas,Special to CH2/CB2 Magazine Jeff Bradley, who represents Hilton Head Island in the state legislature, loves preparing and enjoying delicious meals and desserts. Bradley's passion for preparing food began as a youth in Alabama, when he learned that cooking and sharing meals was often an ideal...

Mar 20, 2024 | poetryfoundation.org | Edward Thomas

Gone, gone again,May, June, July,And August gone,Again gone by,Not memorableSave that I saw them go,As past the empty quaysThe rivers flow. And now again,In the harvest rain,The Blenheim orangesFall grubby from the trees,As when I was young—And when the lost one was here—And when the war beganTo turn young men to dung.

Jan 12, 2024 | poetryfoundation.org | Edward Thomas

All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy, and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top. Out of the blacksmith's cavern comes the ringing Of hammer, shoe, and anvil; out of the inn The clink, the hum, the roar, the random singing— The sounds that for these fifty years have been.