Dreamingof Wild Fields

The call of wild fields.
Rustling wheat, and Autumn grasses preparing a place for me to lay.

Waves undulating, driven by solstice breezes, a ballet of nature’s finest.
Weary cicadas in the tree line, distant chorus my lullaby.

Willow’s shade, my blanket wrapping me in cool repose.
I slumber and dream of wild fields, wild fields calling.

Kit Fox sitting, Bobcat’s cry, The salmon upon the weir,
all know that season’s end has made its visit here.

Warm days have fled, leaves all but shed and still, the wild fields call.
Yes I slumber and dream of wild fields, yes wild fields, wild fields calling.

Dreamingof Wild Fields

burk28

Warren, United States

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