Where is love?

Amended again 6th August

To the north waves in barley, 

Mirror shadows heading deep 
Into Megdale, across grass

Pollen holding fast, against the air.

Tenuous life, ploughed into furrows

is committed. Deferring to the soil.

While on the barley fetching breeze
Scents, lost souls, machinery faults

Catch the larks and buzzards
Spiriting them free of my passing.
High above this private enclave
Cupped by low hills: enthusiasm

No longer mumbles in the barns. 
The light fading over common land, 
In common with all lands, warms
The heart before the chill begins.

Amended work in progress, 16th July:

To the north waves in the barley, 

Mirror shadows heading deep 
Down into Megdale. 'cross grass

Pollen held by nothing but air.

Tenuous life, ploughed into furrows

is committed. Caught-up in soil.

While on the barley fetching breeze
Scents, lost souls, machinery faults

And ......

So where is love in all this?



To the north barley waves ascend.

Where is love? Southerly shadows

Climb. Grass pollen, not yet ready

To fly. Cattle low behind the hedge.

The sun has moved across the sky.

Where is love? Elsewhere? Barely.

Hidden high above the heavy sun?

Likely not. Ploughed into furrows

Caught up in chalk soil. Committed.

Carried in the barley furling breeze.