A Morning Haze

Terry Trainor By Terry Trainor, 14th Jan 2017 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry>Narrative

A beautiful morning walk through idealic lands. Meadows, glades and forests greet him and he enjoys the surroundings. He misses nothing, beauty fills his heart as he makes his way.

A Morning Haze

A morning haze beat down as I stood under a warm sun watching pastures of green meadows rise to a horizon drawing a line under a deep blue sky.
Perennial clovers studded grass all around and as usual I looked for one with four leaves, been looking for years, seen pictures, but never found one.
I got tired looking so I wandered slowly over to a yellow goat's beard just by some dog daisies sheltering under hedgerows, sat down to eat an apple.
And stared half in daydream at a yellow rattle next to where a lotus meets quake-grass and remembered it always has since I was a boy.

Slowing Down

Slowing down a bit these days everything seems to get higher, my old friends the fescues and rough cocks foot always right up at the top.
These warm days of June are just beautiful and clean, I like the nights too they’re calm and soft only need a sheet on my bed.
And on clear nights moonbeams shine on my back porch a silver light, evening stars twinkle in their softness, in a background of dark blue.
With my overgrown trees silhouetted against the starry night sky it’s like a painting on canvas immortalized by a great artist.

The Beauty of a June Day

There’s not much that can match the clear beauty of a June day watching bird's soar across a turquoise sky, twisting and turning.
Not forgetting wild oats and darnel’s along little used waysides, along old lanes, red pensile panicles blowing in light winds
Old fox tails and Timothy’s they all sway in the same breezes dancing and bobbing around, like they are showing off.
They look good wrapped in light air-grass it adds to the colour, specially with purple burnett, just made for a summer meadow.
Then as I walk these meadows my mind takes me back to days long gone, holding hands, not talking, feeling good.
They take me back, back to days when we walked these fields together just seems like yesterday but it's a few years now.

Where are you?

I always wonder where you are, I wonder if you watch down from a great heaven I miss you so very deeply, so deeply.
Do you walk with me on my early walks, are you by my shoulder, I'm so lost without you nobody to talk to much anymore.
Time passes slowly, I go on these walks hoping you are with me, maybe there will be a sign a warm brush of wind on my old cheek.
Maybe a bird will wink from a branch or your voice will speak softly in a breeze just to tell me all is fine and you're happy.
Been walking over these very same fields for nearly sixty years and the footpaths they’ve been here since time began.
Corn sways in blustering winds it rides on warm breezes, husks clash and that breaks a silent calm across golden pastures.
The rye now as tall your head, wheat beginning to shoot, all is how it should be, all as it has always been and I hope always will.
These fields are part of my life, part of my history and as I stare across these golden lands I’m always taken back to my past times.
I can see a couple holding hands and laughing happily across my old lands it brings a smile to my face and do you know what, everything starts again.


Field And Stream, Field Of View, Fields, Green Energy, Green Grass, Green Living, Green Meadows

Meet the author

author avatar Terry Trainor
I am a Poet.
My passion is to write about nature and the history of nature.

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author avatar Terry Trainor
17th Jan 2017 (#)

Thank you Peter.

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