This Land Poem by Phil Soar

This Land



The field I'm in is full of mystery
From the voles near the stream to the Owl's Majesty
The thistles in the rough full of bees
The beauty of it all pleases me
The land I tread is my homestead
From the grasses in the breeze
To the Elm and Oak canopies
And the birds straying through
The land that I knew
This is where I like to be

Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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