Sonnet Poem by Mark Heathcote

Love bends over a yellow stalk of wheat,
hope shields these grains her seed sowed, eyes
corn poppies pearl-black, the inset stars discreet,
worm-eaten flowers caste up a moment's prize.
The sparkling cross-pollination of souls and minds
of hearts cool, hot, tepid, passionate tears assigned.
These aren't the sting-swollen eruptions she reminds-
each bursting bloom, a blood vessel newly entwined.
But gaze not blindly men at women's true-honest preserve
its God's worn-out labour here on mother earth, cherished
the brashest of bees can dance and thrash their verve
and like the kneeling Sheppard, raise all the perished.
As the yolk of a flower is but a set, weed
as-he-the father must chaff out the wheat from the seed.