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Click hereA stretch of level land with farms and corn;
A straight grey road that runs to meet the sky –
A passing driver makes the gravel fly
And in the distance faintly sounds his horn.
The farms are off the road and far apart;
The plain is hardly broken by a tree.
The sky is empty – the few clouds you see
Intensify the space as on they dart,
White dabs of cotton wool, across the blue.
A good, strong wind forms patterns in the wheat
Of shifting greens, and in the midday heat
The light vibrates, and just distorts my view –
With no one to be seen for miles a round
I feel a happiness I've seldom found.
Om Shanti .....Peace .......Amen !
(there was a song in my younger days Sweet Summer Wine ! Or even Wordsworth's A Host of Golden Daffodils ....!)