Morning misted grass
Velvet brushed green
Beckons, cries out
For a child,
Shoe-less 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.
By Robert Sheridan
Can you imagine walking along this road? Feeling the mist in the air?
Ireland
Dr. says surgery was a major one. He removed 4 arthritic bones in rt. wrist. World of pain. Please comment! I look forward to your words.
I do hope your pain is easing. And that all of the arthritic bones are gone.
ReplyDeleteHopefully removing those bones doesn't lose you any function in your hand.
ReplyDeleteOh yikes. I hope your hands feel better now.
ReplyDeleteOw! Feel better soon.
ReplyDeleteThat's a lovely poem, although rather sad.
ReplyDeleteI am praying you recovery quickly.
Echoing Mike and hope you haven't lost any function in that hand.
ReplyDeletethis is the first time i have heard of removing arthritic bones, i will be off to research that soon. its painful just reading about it. i am thinking this will be a very long recovery time. The poem is beautiful, even is sadly I can no longer run barefoot through the grass or even run with shoes on. ha ha.. but I did as a child, shoes were rarely on my feet
ReplyDeleteThis poem truly moved me, Susan. I will continue to pray for your complete healing from this ordeal!
ReplyDeleteBlessings!
Thinking of you and remembering you in prayer.
ReplyDeleteOh yes enjoyed the poem and always enjoy shots from Ireland, still hope to see them in person, the the possibility is waning though. ;-)
Sherry & jack smiling in Florida