Poetry

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WHILE SEATED IN A FIELD THAT GREETED,THOUGH PLANET EARTH HAD
TRIALS WHATEVER COULD A YOUTH KNOW ABOUT OTHER PLACES SPOILED,IN A
FIELD THAT LET THE GRASS GROW STILL FROM THE TOP TO THE LOWEST PART
THG STREAM RIPPLED UNTIL UNDER AN ARCHED BRIDGE THE FLOWING WATER
BECAME ITS AUTHOR,LIKE SO MANY OTHER WATERWAY'S,WITH FIELD AND
WATER'Y STREAMA WINDING ROAD SAW HOW THE WATER FLOWED,MEETING SOME
OTHER FIELD'S AKIN THATS THE PLACE WHERE VISA'S WIN HOW A MID
COULD UNWIND IN A FIELD MADE OF GRASS,ONLY LFE'S IMPRESS OR DIGRESS
TIME WE KNOW CANNOT RELAX,FIELD'S WITH BRIDGES AND WATERWAY'S STAY
STILL,HOW WATER FLOW'S GOD WE KNOW DON'T NEED SUPPOSE ALL OF LIFE
HE CHOSE.AMEN IT GROW'S TO CLOSE.
Joe.

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