Beside patches of green grass meadow
golden wheat fields wave in the breeze
Beckoning out to all my fellows
come walk through me with ease
Upon just such a lazy day
I once casually sauntered by
Hearing the call of nature's beauty
thought that God had spoke just to I
With the sound of a lonesome whistle
down the river the steamers rolled
To this the backdrop behind the field
the childhood longing is all told
Across the field dressed all in blue
a boy and his team worked the ground
I stood to watch an hour or so
not moving or making a sound
A smile as wide as the river
shown across the boys bright face
Perhaps this was the very first time
he had taken his father's place
In him I could see a purpose
a reward for his tiny soul
I could tell by the way he worked
nothing would lure him of his goal
Long it is since I felt like that
as a boy just going on ten
Doing twice what was asked of me
to be noticed by him again
Passing for gold in a boy's heart
are all the looks his father pays
collecting what he can in life
to spend long into older days
In him I saw both rhyme and reason
as we all live and pass away
A boy working so hard to grow up
while we men all wish we could play
Tate
The original of this poem I think is much better as I love the music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/444697/
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
Beside patches of green grass meadow
golden wheat fields wave in the breeze
Beckoning out to all my fellows
come walk through me with ease
Upon just such a lazy day
I once casually sauntered by
Hearing the call of nature's beauty
thought that God had spoke just to I
With the sound of a lonesome whistle
down the river the steamers rolled
To this the backdrop behind the field
the childhood longing is all told
Across the field dressed all in blue
a boy and his team worked the ground
I stood to watch an hour or so
not moving or making a sound
A smile as wide as the river
shown across the boys bright face
Perhaps this was the very first time
he had taken his father's place
In him I could see a purpose
a reward for his tiny soul
I could tell by the way he worked
nothing would lure him of his goal
Long it is since I felt like that
as a boy just going on ten
Doing twice what was asked of me
to be noticed by him again
Passing for gold in a boy's heart
are all the looks his father pays
collecting what he can in life
to spend long into older days
In him I saw both rhyme and reason
as we all live and pass away
A boy working so hard to grow up
while we men all wish we could play
Tate
The original of this poem I think is much better as I love the music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/444697/
Request permission to use this poem