Trumpets Of Gold. Poem by Fay Slimm
Trumpets Of Gold.
Drifts of gleaming bright accost the eye.
Breeze stirs, and each dreamily sighs.
Glowing with gold now, hedgerow and field
Carpeted thus, to Sun-god yield,
Who lights up their stage daily, and saves
His warmth for some yellow Spring play.
Gently he sets them a merry dance.
Daffodil days can't help but entrance.
Trumpeting treasures of golden hue
May your spread seed ever accrue.
Gorgeous, bright golden write to lighten our day, your work is a tonic Fay,10 Lynda xx
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5/6/2024 7:51:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautiful spring landscape you painted for us here. None of ours have flowered yet but I know you get the benefit of the warmer climes down there. How lovely... thank you for sharing. HG: -) xx