Answered.
In its dying moments the sun crept
into haziness making the sky's
veils into buttery bands
as end-of-day yellowness swept
flat the tree-lined horizon.
Cows in green fields dun-dappled
by shadows, chewing late cud
trundled along milk-laden
as pail-in-hand maidens tackled
the beasts' steamy arrival.
Captured and answered the music
of duty that follows slow plod
of men's satisfied footsteps
as night casts job ending for some
while others start the final.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: June 9th, 2017 03:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 46
Offline)
Comments6
My grandfather had a few cows many years ago, but not for dairy. Being raised on a large farm (mostly tobacco, fruits and vegetables) I felt the warm of this scene. I have an understanding of sun up to sundown sweat, the sweet cool of late evening meaning shower, supper, and satisfied rest.
Wow! I didn't think the subject matter could be written in such a beautiful, poetic way. Your poem proves me wrong! Nice work!
Thanks a load Jason - your comments are so encouraging.
Good write.
Having milked many a cow, you captured it well. Love the photo.
"the music of duty", What a wonderful, descriptive phrase! You have a way with words that I envy, my friend.
Thanking you Louis for your perceptive comments and so pleased you enjoyed the read.
Great prose - it puts me in mind of the books by Mary Webb - just finished one and so inspiring.
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