Sonnet Upon It
We love these fields where golden sunbeams lie.
They're like a canvas, part of nature's art.
The whispering winds within those leaves do sigh.
Down here I feel the music in my heart.
And in that hall such music then unfolds
that symphony, its every pitch and tone;
concerto now with stuff my gay heart holds
as treasure - and I'm glad I'm not alone.
We're keen and jolly, sparkling, wild and gay.
You fill my heart with happiness, it swells
my very soul with gladness, yet I say
I'm getting something curious, and it smells.
I do so love you, know you love me too,
but oh I know you need a great big poo.
(written on 8 Feb 2026)
(this is not based on anyone in particular - and it was written accompanied by red wine on a Sunday)
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