Pastorale

“Sew, gentle yeoman. I sense you're afield.
I myself am a field with a furrow to sew.
You've a seed. You should plant it.
My furrow awaits.” “Ah, you're flat,
Lovely lady, but you are not plain.
You are what I've been seeking. I'll
Do as you say, and afield, among
Feathers, so far from my home, I am
Awed by your bawdiness, blessed,
I would say, to be poised at your
Furrow, filled with delight at the lay
Of the land where I am.”



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 58 times
Written on 2010-06-24 at 00:28

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