Just a field in Herefordshire.

By Fred Lovegrove

There was rain, and there was sun,

And there was sun amongst the rain.

Bullets of heaven cut to glass by a single glance of light. Cast from on high towards the earth to shatter. 

The willow wept. 

Hunched over it's glassy river, peering in as if it were able to divine some greater meaning from the reflected going bys of the clouds . 

The sun lit the grain into fields of molten gold. Pooling and cascading down dips and over rises. The light blew through the crop gently upon the wind's back. 

There was darkness in the field now. The rain had stopped ,the sun was gone and even the trees held still in reverence. The stars were high overhead, cruel and distant in their multitudes. 

This poem was submitted by Fred, who lives in the Teme Valley, response to the theme “My Point of View” in January 2022.

Read more about P.O.V. Teme Valley here.