Verdure, The Dream

by jotadavida

Posted to Action Poetry on 2001-07-21 08:07:00

Lament did I this loss of the ocean grass
No dyads speak to me now at the end of the forest trees
Standing high six feet high once this prairie fast
Rose to meet me here now at last blows past
Breaks free from the tribal past les belle prairies
The endless champagne moira spreads beyond the clumps
A land that rises up to greet me with the dawn behind me
Commence from waters flowing edge in sun drenched glory
Flowered islands meet my stare at man high blue-stem grass
Repairs the slant of an afternoon light and seed stalk reeds
Bending cast their green and golden groves of glory
Food for flocks and herds and a yellow dog at my side
Stop and rest relief at the wonder of the light expanse
A gazzeteer of love do not weary ever nature’s carpet fury