Earthy Glow On a Farmland
Sometime, in July's budding charm
when the harvest of earth's clay affirms
that which exposes a content heart,
I remember a glimpse of rare delight
accepting the slow exposure of one morn
when daylight warms Grandpa’s hands
soaked in earthy glow on his farmland.
A rumbling wind turns amiable,
as bamboo drifts along lush curls
glossing the husk of our fond whispers,
oh, it is as simple as that:
his gaiety becomes an answered prayer
tasting the bliss of simple favors
bestowed by a yield of cornfields
reflecting the thrill of labor harnessed.
In a flash, I watch Gramps' hat flying
like a kite across a wispy sky,
my innocence releases a laughter’s dance
playful and blithe at age seven,
while he, born from fruits of life
ripens still, on his golden year with ease.
Rob Carmack's Golden Days
4/3/2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
