Overview

Step into the Secret Garden of Words: Unearthing ""A Spring Harvest"" Have you ever stumbled upon a forgotten treasure, hidden amongst the dust of time? That's the feeling you'll get when you open ""A Spring Harvest,"" a rare collection of poems by Geoffrey Bache Smith, a brilliant artist whose light was extinguished too soon. Imagine verses penned by a close confidante of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, echoing with the same love for language and exploration. Each poem is a unique bloom, some heavy with somber reflections on life and faith, others bursting with whimsical journeys into fantastical realms. Feel the whispers of Tolkien's influence as Smith paints landscapes alive with nature's magic and weaves forgotten myths into his tapestry of words. But here's the secret: Smith's voice is distinct, lyrical, and deeply personal. His introspective insights bloom on the page, inviting you to delve into the depths of his soul. This isn't just a book of poems; it's a portal to a hidden world. Step inside and you'll find yourself among the Inklings, that legendary literary circle where stories danced and imaginations soared. ""A Spring Harvest"" is a poignant reminder of Smith's unfulfilled potential, a testament to the power of friendship and the enduring beauty of words. But be warned: once you enter this secret garden, you might never want to leave. Are you ready to discover the blossoms of ""A Spring Harvest""? Open the book and let the words bloom in your heart.

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"Foreword by J.R.R. Tolkien The poems of this book were written at very various times, one (""Wind over the Sea"") I believe even as early as 1910, but the order in which they are here given is not chronological beyond the fact that the third part contains only poems written after the outbreak of the war. Of these some were written in England (at Oxford in particular), some in Wales and very many during a year in France from November 1915 to December 1916, which was broken by one leave in the middle of May. ""The Burial of Sophocles,"" which is here placed at the end, was begun before the war and continued at odd times and in various circumstances afterwards; the final version had sent me from the trenches. Beyond these few facts no prelude and no envoi is needed other than those here printed as their author left them. J. R. R. T. 1918."

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