John Anderson Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

"Breathes there the man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land?" - "The Lay of the Last Minstrel" - Sir Walter Scott,
"Where we love is home; home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
"You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing....Only your eyes are unclosed, to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep. And you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-before-dawn minutely dewgrazed stir of the black, dab-dilled sea. - "Under Milk Wood" - A radio play by Dylan Thomas.

Listen to poem:

Lay me down in lay of land I love

Hush now, the hills lean close in, 
cradling the town in green-field arms.
The houses huddle, blinking from night lit rooms,
beneath a dawn that warns shepherds of storms,
As I lay me down in the lay of land I love.

This is the land that knew me,
before it had my name,
before it lay me down,
to sleep in lay of land,
to cherish this land
that knows me as its own,
and what my heart 
knows that I too own.

Come closer now, to hear the waves crash on beach.
The sigh of wind in Casuarina trees on sandy shores.
The bird songs that lilt at dawn, longingly to the skies.
The clatter of kids running off to school.
The hustle and bustle of streets getting busy.
The hush of dusk called to silence by rise of moon.
Listen, as night seeps in to quell the moving streets,
As I lay me down in the lay of land I love.

My hills are not mountains grand as Everest,
The streams are not the Ganges, Amazon or the rest.
The fields are not clad in dense tropical forests. 
But, to me the lay of my land speaks to me.
Like no other, as I lay me down to sleep.

The lay of the land is steeped in memories
that sprawl across the ridges and dales,
that are entangled in the roots of trees,
with mementos spangled in their limbs.
Memories that curl the field to long furrows
with soil folded over like wrinkles on brows
of old heads, eyes, limbs, lips recalling the past.

Even when you leave, you never do,
For the lay of land settles deeper into you,
the more you shape the lay, 
the more the lay shapes you.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment