Autumn Fields

I look across the autumn fields So brown and bare for cut and turned, By blades of plough that scarred the land Where summer wheat did sway, The crows now climb the clods of earth All strewn with shafts of golden straw, While swiftless skies are silent As September slips away. The hedges cut where hawthorn grew And blossomed in the early spring, Beside the path where fallen leaves Lie scattered on the floor, Where once the pretty daisies grew With dandelions amongst the grass, Now just the fading clover stays As winter nears once more. The border trees stand lightly tinged With amber flecks amongst the green, Their faintest shadows rest upon The undulating ground, As evening sunlight slowly falls And cloudless skies begin to glow, I hold the comfort that the spring Shall quickly come around. Copyright. Andrew Blakemore 2009