Posted in Pictures, Poem, Uncategorized

On a Road to the Henge


On a Road to the Henge

London Aug 2016 -18.jpg

Was an ordinary August day,
Hot enough to crisp the hay.
Rolled and stacked,
And a bit ransacked.

A pasture of trampled summer grass;
Golden shine grappled as I pass,
Of dusty summer, the hay smelt yet;
Whittled bales, they formed a fret.

On a dusky meadow, the lambs lay;
As the sun shone, they made hay.
The penetrating wind whistled away;
Of love and joy, my music of the day.

 

 

Author:

Besides fantasizing about being a Peter Gibbons at least for a couple of days at my work, I think I have a long way to go to realize some of the other fantasies. But like any ambitious man out there, I will get there! Note: All views expressed in this blog are mine alone and have got nothing to do with my company Cogent IBS, Inc., its employees or any of its affiliates.

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