In winter crystal carpet spun
returns us right where we begun
when forests walked and talked on cue
still roots push through, greet promised sun.
When meadow beckons all should go
exploring glades they've yet to know,
discover shades of green and blue.
Why follow fallow furrow‘s woe?
The meadow gentle? Time and place
for sunlight strive at rival pace,
spite sunlit face, bright spilling dew
heed spider warnings to man's race.
Sun, sinking, bids the birds asleep
though thorny hedgehogs slowly creep
beside the brake where curlew flew
and cuckoo echoes echoed deep,
While trout still tipple in the deep.
calm nor alarm, nor timid peep,
awakens sleeping sheep who grew
content in sturdy shepherd's keep.
Then lines from rest to test shall steep
on meadowsward inked page, tryst keep
to share sage secrets once we knew
before eyes veiled, lies more lies reap.
(23 March 2005)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem