The second “panel” of a triptych of poems:
II. NOON SONG
As the noon-high sun blazes in its majestic glory,
The lark takes shelter in the shady arms of a tree.
High above, white, woolly clouds glide silently past,
Shading briefly all below with each shadow they cast.
All is calm and quiet–even the wind has ceased blowing;
Somewhere off in the distance, a cow is contentedly lowing.
The woodland stream continues gurgling along its way
Down to its final destination with the far, distant bay.
The still-laboring bee bumbles from flower to flower,
Unwilling to waste one single minute of each passing hour.
The ploughman sits with his back against the trunk of an ash,
His legs stretched out before him, to his well-deserved repast.
While the poet and a fair maid sit beneath a sheltering elm,
And with his words of love, transports them to a higher realm.
(©Poeticmeditations 2012. All rights reserved.)
A personally signed copy of this poem can be ordered at PoeticExpressions.