View From My Window

To Wood and Field

To wood and field,
to grass and daffodils,
the sun, with orange slants, peeled,
the trees and the scant hills.

The wind romps in merriment,
the birds trills in song,
like a beggar's penny at a market is spent,
they romp through the field all day long.

To wood and field,
to grass and daffodils,
the sunlight ends, and the farmers yield,
as the sun comes up over the hills.

-(c) May 19th, 2002


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To Wood and Field

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