High
Tide
The fields are flooded with sunshine,
It swirls through parched corn,
Washes over dusty hedgerows,
Drenches weary trees,
Dripping into trembling shade.
A tide of heat drowns the land,
Every living thing submerged,
Slow and breathless in the golden
ocean.
There is nothing to do but wait,
Wait for the tide turning,
And the slow ripples of night.
This is a high summer poem, from my collection Garden Seasons.
You can find it on my Etsy shop https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/153337724/poetry-collection-garden-seasons-in-a?ref=shop_home_active
When I took the photograph I didn't have my glasses on, so had no idea that I had captured a hoverfly in front of the poppy!
This is a high summer poem, from my collection Garden Seasons.
You can find it on my Etsy shop https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/153337724/poetry-collection-garden-seasons-in-a?ref=shop_home_active
When I took the photograph I didn't have my glasses on, so had no idea that I had captured a hoverfly in front of the poppy!
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