Rosy waves of morn arrive, To light springs providence
On the decks of poplars, thrashers steadily stride
In aureately afternoons grasshopers gently croon
Coaxed bewitching stillness within the effervesent lime
listen to thrushes sing with blushing lushness on their perch
Watch manic groundhogs leap frog over groundbogs to their holes
Down corridors of serried grass, heiroglyphs made of earth
Against a gentle stream that beams tears of baby seas that loll and roll
And on a blanket made of grass I watch with fascination
As Sunlight drips a golden haze across the gown of green
I raise to a laze against the noon and stroll without abode
Walking down an endless leas as if star struck in a waken dream
No sounds of traffic, cities stoplight to break their plaguing din
Here inside my memories I hear the countless throng
Lingering serenity among a blue sky sheltering
A million creatures dance as the green fields roll on and on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Kevin, just discovered your poetry and feel some of our subject matter is of kindred spirits. This poem reminds me of one of mine, Remembering Walt. We must both have been raised on that blanket made of grass. Looking forward to reading more of your work!