Fields of Green
In my spring of years as bud on limb,
forest and I grew, in my time of play.
Innocence of youth, by the grace of Him,
in the yellow-green hue I spent my day.
Summer strode in boldly with skies so blue,
seasons hot sun, path from child to man laid.
Evenings cool breeze and long rich days to strew,
the rich green home fields spread wide in deep shade.
Autumn chill announcing a change is near,
fields in harvest full, as man is of age.
Life’s blessings bestowed have now become clear,
summers rich green changed to colorful sage.
Winter shades gray to black spread o’re the land,
waning length of day, seek suns warmth to glean.
Now in spread soft white, I lie in last stand,
how I miss, the wondrous rich fields of green.
Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©
1/29/16
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