a field of flowers speaks to me
a muted memory from the past
when summer was a child's bright toy
that seemed to fade and flee too fast
for all year long I counted time
with hash marks striking off the days
as I awaited patient June
to set the meadowlands ablaze
with school time obligations done
and spring and dogwood past their prime
I made my way into the hills
where nature yet composed its rhyme
it rested just below the path
that years before had been a road
a clearing faithful as the sun
displayed once more its motherload
the garden knew no gardener's care
beyond the majesty of grace
the seasons were its destiny
and no one knew its hiding place
but now those hills are gentrified
another man has claimed my spot
and built a home to call his own
and tamed my precious meadow lot
The dazzling colours of the flowers, the sky and the sun are most impressive. I think you have chosen a form which expresses the ideas seamlessly. Rhymed couplets, lower case letters, without traditional punctuation. Formidable.
Thanks Michael. I prefer not to use punctuation as it makes the appearance of the poem more pleasing to me.But sometimes punctuation is a must due to sentence structure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A map of icons we lived and loved.