Joseph Fuller Poet I do not know?

Playing In the Field

You can call life what you will.
Some call it a road,
Some call it a highway
I for one consider life a field.
Sometimes it can be a field of roses,
Or it can be a field of thorns,
That can sometimes hurt, if not careful.
However, more often than not,
It’s a field of wild flowers and soft grass.
Just remember to stay clear of bee hives,
Or the occasional fire ant hill.
In your field of wild flowers and grass,
You can play and frolic like a colt in the spring,
Or just take time to rest.
A road is always in need of repairs,
A highway has to be rebuilt every ten years,
A field only has to endure the seasons of life.
Which one would you choose to play in?

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