Dog rose rests in budded beauty
Waiting on the eve of summer's morn
When she will awake to sweet scented elderflower,
And see green June
With his rolling fields
And well watered, full bodied trees.
Blackbird makes her nest
Low in the hedgerow
Fussing about with dusty stick and stem
She chirps and chides
Ceaselessly calling the evening chimes
Ale fair
And fair festival in the village there,
The calf and his mother stand swishing
On a small plot of pasture
In the twighlight, feeding,
With steady gaze and shuffling hoof.
Hidden in the long grass
Suffering poppy shelters
Scorched by the noonday heat
She flutters in the evening breeze
And sheds her wilted, crimson leaves
Shire ponies gather round
Next the well trodden trough
The falling field gate,
Wood rubbed and thinly worn.
Lamb and yew look on contented,
And with the rose
Await the dawn
Joe Morriss
31st May 2010
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