A framed view of fields captured in The golden light Of long shadows and filtered sun; Where sheep graze , their coats full and heavy, And lambs in groups Charge to and fro in playful chatter. Where dappled light is cast And dark green of oak filters lime Through leaves caught by the sun Down into the sunken lane; Where the air is close; The heat intense; Breath is heavy; Holding on to the warmth of the day. Stirrings in the bank as I run past Rustles and urgent calls of a thrush- That elusive bird of dawn and dusk- Darts across. Bullfinches play out in final flourish Branch to branch- with seemingly no purpose But to enjoy. The flowers too- Colours intensified Of striking foxglove and blousy willowherb. A bee works frantically Petal to petal Bright yellow buttercups and campion Face upward, Tall grasses arch over. The air thick with the scent of honeysuckle. Time is running; I am stopping To watch, to look and save the view. Waiting. A cloud of dust : a tractor passes; The farmer waves And makes his way home. The air settles and the view clears. My breath is stilled. This simple beauty of a world intensified Just before the sun goes down in Rhythm of the day. Where all creation seems held In harmonious pursuit of calm enjoyment. This is their church and mine to share. Before the ending of the day Grant us a quiet night and a perfect end. Ruth Partridge







