Tuesday, 31 July 2018

Field

Field

A green field bathed in sunlight,
wet and squiggly under foot.
Brown shapes wander aimlessly,
they're cows and horses if you look.

A yellow field bathed in sunlight,
dried and cracked from the sun.
Little children scream shout,
Just playing, having fun.

A green field bathed in sunlight,
the trees are brown or bare.
Brown shapes shelter from the wind,
breathe white, from frosty air.

A white field bathed in sunlight,
Cold and covered with virgin snow.
Suddenly a man appears,
A carrot for his nose.

A red field bathed in sunlight,
wounded and dying lay.
An ancient battle long ago,
no-one knows who won the day.

A green field bathed in sunlight,
it's beauty beyond compare.
Will greed turn it to concrete?
And blacken our fresh air.

(August 2017)

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