pears in a moonlit orchard

after Drinkwater's poems on apples...

Pears in a Moonlight Orchard

 

At the edge of a grove, pears trees sit in queue,

Their branches tangled, offer'ng spectral view,

The lantern of night spills a silv'ry dew,     

     A breath of orchard drifts as maiden's hair.

 

A fox in the hedgerow lingers, its shadow grown,

The frost on the furrows is quietly shown,

The farmhouse is silent, the fields over-sown,     

     And pears in their dreaming are caught in the air.

 

They are resting in baskets, under the beams of glass,

On the worn wooden tables where the shadows pass,

They gather the shimmer as the night hours mass,     

     And silent the stair by the orchard hill.

 

In the loft beyond there is nothing but flame,

The hearth’s faint glow and the rafters the same,

They cradle the pears in a silver frame,    

      Moon-washed and waiting, utterly still.

 

 

 

 

.

Reviews

[Lorry]

I concur with Rom's review. This is quite luminous and sets the perfect setting as the viewer joins the stillness and contemplates the view in quiet respect and awe of nature.
Life doesn't have enough of these moments to wake us up to the beauty that surrounds us, without the need for 5G to put it on instagram.
Perhaps if influencers (of what I knoweth not) want to partake in such a feeling they shout put their devices down and unplug themselves from everything that is wrong with modern living... once they have their overpriced mochalattecino of course! 😀

[redd Brick Keshner]

Thanks, Lorry. In many places and situations getting such serenity requires a lot of planning and missing out. Perhaps I'm missing the rustic idyll of the farm and country living. Cheers.
Freds

[Jansy]

There’s something quietly hypnotic about this poem. The pears aren’t just fruit-they become actors in a nocturnal ballet, caught between the orchard, the moon, and the soft human traces in the farmhouse. How the light moves through the scene, brushing the pears and the loft in silver, making stillness feel alive. It’s a gentle, patient kind of magic, the kind that makes you pause and listen to the world breathing around you.

-James☆

[redd Brick Keshner]

I do love the flourishing of the pears in this reading! And the trace of humanity ever so subtle, now that is very dreamy. Thanks, James for bringing forward your journey to this poem's dialog. You are much appreciated 🙏🕊️

-Freds ✍️

[Neville]

not only absolutely beautiful, but even more so than that, if there is a word more adequate .. I want to know, save and use it .. maybe one day in the future .. perhaps .. dubble 👍👍'd without any hesitation ..

[redd Brick Keshner]

To thumbs-up. Quite rare there, Neville. Perhaps crossing over to that poetic plane is finally within grasp 🙏🏻🕊️

[Michael Sun Bear]

Your poem is so gentle and enchanting, to borrow from Roma, yes dreamlike. It feels like a piece from an earlier time. And I appreciate the extra effort it took to create such careful rhythm and rhyme. I wish I had read this right before sleep last night instead of it being my first poem of the morning while still abed. It is an effective lullaby to calm a busy mind. Well written!

[redd Brick Keshner]

Thanks, Michael! That’s an excellent disclaimer and statement of specific utility. Growing up, there were go-to poems to accompany certain moods or needs. Some of these have over the years become faithful
Companions in life’s daily journeys. 🙏🏻🕊️

[RomaJ]

Redd, this is a beautiful, luminous piece. I love how the orchard feels both tangible and dreamlike, where light, shadow, and breath mingle, and even the pears seem suspended in quiet reverie. The fox, the frost, the glow of the hearth.. they all create a delicate, living stillness that makes the night feel sacred. Reading this, I felt transported, walking softly among moonlit trees, noticing everything and nothing at once.

There’s a hushed reverence here, a love for observation itself, and the imagery lingers long after the words are read. Truly a tender, exquisite vision.
..Roma

[redd Brick Keshner]

Part of my childhood was spent imbibing the wonder of rural evenings and I’m glad that has filtered through, here. Thank you kindly 🙏🏻🕊️