Field of Wheat and a red poppy

 

Poppies at sunset 

 

Flying on moonbeams fair

Over flowers and with bees,

Caressing a sleeping child’s hair,

Seeing what only a Fairy sees.

Standing on a mountain peak,

Weeping at the beauty of grass and sea.

Wind sweeping, I cannot speak,

As if God prepared this spot for me.

Gliding hands along heads of wheat,

Almost golden, yet still green.

Discovering a single red poppy

Bravely, gracefully greets and humbles me, 
for what I have seen.

 

by Susan Kane 2014

Each week, Delores created a writing challenge for participants.  That week she also asked for a poem telling what we would do if there were no restrictions placed upon us. Hmmmm...

 What would you write?

 

This is from 2014. We went to Switzerland and our Air BnB apt was near a farm. We had to walk up a steep hill to get to the apt. and this photo was one I took then. When we returned from an adventure, the wheat was in process of being harvested. I was stunned by the beauty in the field. Restrictions? I could not walk into the field.