I'd camera in the morning. Especially this morning, looking out the end of the barn, with the heifers on the hill, the mist rising off the goose-infested pond, and the sunrise of 47 colors above the hill. Soon I'll remember to take the camera out and then I can share. In lieu of that, a favorite poem of Edna Murphy's:
A Summer Scene
We stood at the bars as the sun went down
Behind the hill on a summer day.
Her eyes were tender and big and brown.
Her breath was as sweet as the new-mown hay.
Far from the west, the faint sunshine
Glanced sparkling off her golden hair.
Her calm deep eyes were turned toward mine,
And a look of contentment rested there.
I saw her bathed in the sunlight flood.
I see her standing peacefully now.
Peacefully standing and chewing her cud
As I stroke her ears, that Jersey cow.
1 comment:
A very enjoyable Blob. UncaDon.
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