Poem ~ Grass, Hay


We grubbed out the apple trees, ploughed
and weeded, and waited through the winter
then we harrowed, seeded and rolled. 

I would never have guessed the beauty 
captured in the movement of long grass
the sway and flow of it in the wind.

And now, after mowing, before 
the first of three turns, I am entranced by 
the felt weight of it already turning gold.

If you wish, you can add your own analogies
here: effort, timing, patience, reward. 
Or, you can just stay with the grass

watch the wood pigeons settle 
on the layered tresses searching for seeds.
Close your eyes, breathe. The scent of it.  


Great writing, Lynne. I love where you've gone with the last two stanzas!
Lynne Rees said…
Thank you, Norman. And all bailed up now too,
Magyar said…
__The season's change, so well seen here in your word-sight; I add this echo, my full thanks... grand Lynne. _m

green waves sea
each day sun flows this tide
time navigates