The Half Crown
In the cornfield the horse drawn reaper stood steady,the vacation crew were up
and ready.The days were long,recent clouds had gone.Yellow beams on heavy
harvest food,the lark departing with her second brood.Field mice scattered ,their
nests torn and forlorn .Our stooked up sheaves midst growing clover,
unbalanced and toppling over.The clock ticked slow,the field seemed to
grow,eleveneses a dim distant view.A working break ,to seek a half crown for the
week,somewhere sunny and sublime...seemed good idea at the time.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
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