Monday, December 16, 2013

Fields to Wall

1457000.  Patchwork fields of the County Down countryside, Northern Ireland.
Morning misted grass
Velvet brushed green

Beckons, cries out
For a child,
Shoeless and wild.

Race across bare grass
With bare feet
Unfettered and free.

Hedge to stone wall,
Run and invite all
Follow, come, join...

Weeping eyes reply,
Cannot run, sadly sigh...
Travel ahead and discover
Fields touched by many.

Through golden gorse,
Beneath rowan trees,
Still, but for wren and sparrow hawks.
Come, follow...

There is yet another
Field awaiting,
Weeping eyes.

Ireland's Eye at Low Tide
Island of Eye/panoramio...Google maps


  1. That is so lovely, Susan. We all dream of running free, but alas, there comes a time when that is no longer practical or possible. It is now left to others to find that next field.

    1. I recall how my students was race around the school yard--
      It is their field then.

  2. This poem just makes me feel "free" and un-tethered. I love it.

    1. Thanks! The photo makes me feel that way--far vista, with so much between.

  3. Love to run free with no snow, like we have here, all green such a scene

    1. How badly did you get snowed? Those in the North sure had some huge snow storms.

  4. Nice poem. I like the imagery of the child running barefoot. It just creates such a happy free image.

    1. I played and ran in the yard barefoot. By summer's end, my feet were calloused.

  5. Happy free childhood days in the country....beautiful.

  6. Beautiful - and a touch melancholy too. But the beauty triumphs.

  7. We get old and don't know it until it happens. Lovely...

  8. I do enjoy your poetry.

    I think this may be a mountain lion. The size in relationship to the stump is about right since the cat is downhill to that. The blur of eyes and body means it was running. I hope it stays away. We have seen it a few times.
    The reason the population is growing, I think, is man the only predator of these is not allowed to stop them unless they have killed. It won't last around this area. Too many livestock and children to take the chance. I imagine it will be a shoot, shovel and shhhhhh.

    Have a wonderful holiday.

  9. I would like to ask for your email so I may reply to your comments. You have a no reply comment blogger as you email address. If you don't want, that's okay, too.

  10. Love the carefree days of childhood, running barefoot through the grass. But a little touch of melancholy as we age and realize we are no longer are able to do that. Another lovely poem!

  11. Its great to be unfettered roaming free in the galaxy. Theres so many lush green pastures to explore, Awesome view Susan.

  12. This could be the Welsh border country: English fields and meadows losing themselves in the higher mountains of Wales.

    A childhood spent roaming wild seems like paradise, although there was/and is/ a lot of poverty in the rural communities.

    Your poem concentrates on the idyllic aspects and brings a smile to my face.

    I just wanted to tell you that ‘mince meat' in mince pies is not meat, it’s mixed dried fruits in sweet pastry. Mince pies are eaten as a sweet with tea or coffee. One of the idiosyncrasies of the English language.

  13. To all the wonderful readers: You are so precious in your comments! I have been laid low by dental surgery, and feel absolutely lousy!! I'll be better by Thursday.

  14. Oh, you poor thing. So sorry to hear about the dental surgery. I hope you feel better soon.

    Your poem made ME feel better. Lovely, Susan. No matter how old we may be, that carefree child we used to be still runs barefoot through the silky grass in our memories

  15. Now I want to roam through the breathtaking countryside. This was beautifully written Susan! Hope you feel better soon.


  16. This is beautifully written, and I hope you feel better soon too!! Dental surgery is never fun.


Go won' t hurt...I'd love to hear what you think!