Buttercups and Cow Parsley

Billowing golden

and frothed like a green bay

At sunset,

Beyond a storm-wracked day

There's a peace in this breeze

Though the broad green leaves

Have been ripped from the branches

Of sycamore trees

The Curlew calls

Wild, not free

Protecting her treasures

Like a shepherdess

Counting her blessings.

#poetry