I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

25 October 2015

View from the Bus Window


This far south of the Equator
the sun’s rays take a lengthy slant
and evenings last
for hours and hours,

turning the grasses golden
below the line of trees
that march in single file
along the top of the hill.

This was my father’s country,
all undulant curves
and soft, gentle colours.
No wonder he was so fond of women!


(An old journal entry I came across, which needed little tweaking to turn into a poem.)

 I'm linking to Gillena's Monday WRites 35:

verses



12 comments:

  1. A heart-warming piece indeed, greetings!

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  2. Beautiful! I so want to lie down in the golden grass below the line of trees. :)

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  3. Oh, you make me see those rounded hills. We have them here, too. Love the evenings that last for hours in springtime.

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    1. They are not so lengthy where I live. This was a journey through one of our southern States.

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  4. You brought a very broad smile to my face. The land is female, and maybe even the marching trees.

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    1. It may well be. :) I recall they were rounded too.

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  5. Thanks for linking in at Monday WRites Rosemary. You can 'grab my button' and use it in your post

    Much love...

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