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
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