sometimes life is the pits
most days it is better than that
but rarely better than this...
the wind stirred
the prairie grass along
the slough's shore
the bluebills and
the green heads
bobbed about.
in the reeds
the mud hens bickered.
" why you old coot . . ."
overhead stretched
horizon to horizon
the big sky hung
dotted with
flocks of fluffy white
sky sheep clouds
while i lounged
against a bale of hay
and sighed
" what a perfect day! "
===+===
bluebills a.k.a. ruddy ducks
green heads a.k.a. mallards
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Reviews of "prairie reverie"
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on May 6, 2004
ooooooo... how delicious to wile away time, barefoot, relaxed, holding up the side of an old barn... if that doesn't cause smiling, I can't imagine what would! Thank you, John, for the ease and the quiet joy you've written here. katy xox.
Reviewed by Jane Rodway (Reader)
Reviewed on May 6, 2004
Felt this way today- love the description of the clouds. Good clarity in this poem. Excellent.
This is a fabulous write, John. You do Nature Extremely Well. I felt like I was standing out on that wondrous prairie with you. Excellent! (Wish I was there right now.)
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on May 6, 2004
john,
having lived in what they call the prairies i can so relate to the beauty you penned my favorite day is when i find a field of fresh wheat or call grasses and I fall back on the swweet earth and stare at the cloud kingdom over head.....
Beautiful pome.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
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Love Tinka
having lived in what they call the prairies i can so relate to the beauty you penned my favorite day is when i find a field of fresh wheat or call grasses and I fall back on the swweet earth and stare at the cloud kingdom over head.....
Beautiful pome.
lady peg