Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark
On the horizon walking like the trees
The wordy shapes of women, and the rows
Of the star-gestured children in the park.
Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches,
Some of the oaken voices, from the roots
Of many a thorny shire tell you notes,
Some let me make you of the water's speeches.
Behind a pot of ferns the wagging clock
Tells me the hour's word, the neural meaning
Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning
And tells the windy weather in the cock.
Some let me make you of the meadow's signs;
The signal grass that tells me all I know
Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye.
Some let me tell you of the raven's sins.
Thomas' drafts of his poems often feature, in their early stages, marginal glossaries, lists of words which he is debating using in the place of others. (for more on this see Ackerman’s  Dylan Thomas: His Life and Work ) 
 Supposing he had as options ‘glade’s’ and ‘lores’ for ‘meadow’s’ & ‘signs’, respectively: why should he have chosen the words he did? For alliteration & assonance, as signified by  bold  and  italics , thus: 
 S o m e l e t  m e  m ake you of the  m   ea dow’s  s igns
Especially when the October wind