Our Fields of Fire

With the golden wheat

and amber glow

we watch our son grow.

His wild feet

gallop mad and free

through flowing fields

and trample wilder seeds.

There, instantly

sprouts a thistle tree,

blooms big and bright

yellow firelight.

Sadly we see,

our scenic beauty of sight

sold out for free.

***

*Words by Sean Nel

*Photograph by Mike Barwood

http://maxdesign.co.za/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/hundreds/

One Response to “Our Fields of Fire”

1. mike says:

   January 21, 2010 at 12:06 pm

   Sean – for me a sad poem… yes – being a parent makes you realise that the delusion of hunky dory is so often shattered by the harsh reality of the real world…