On this hill
I now stand free
from the smell of hustle 'n' bustle
fume filled cities.
Through the shadow
of my sun-protecting hat
I see real life hiding
in the poppy-stained grasses.
Avenues of lime
fence the country lanes
and lead to a single spire,
where birth, marriage
and the finality of death
are sung about from the same book.
Beyond the chaple, sheep
roam the flayed-fleece fields.
A far off forest sits
like a black cloud
on my horizon...
as I wash my canvass
in a watery blue.
i rated this one 10 because it is well penned.... nice theme and presentation!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I suspect that this well done composition was done under the influence of some voda-like ambience, it is very good. Much better thatn the first glance suggests. H