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THE HAY WAIN
 
THE HAY WAIN
Painting by John Constable

Another work day in Suffolk country.
Hayworkers swing their scythes in the field.
A kitchen maid on her knees bent over the river Stour
scoops up a pail of water for a kitchen chore.

A cooperative day one might say.

The warmth of the sun quickens
the luscious green of the tree foliage.
Clouds hayball across the sky
shielding field workers with welcomed shade.

Shafts of sunlight shove aside those moving mountains,
spearing the water sparkling like dancing dragon flies.

Even the fire in the cottage hearth
of the tenant farmer Willy Lott
has its chore to do at this noon hour.
Its smoke curls slowly upward
chasing passing clouds.

Now the horses are given time
to cool their hoofs and gulp cool water,
to quench their thirst while the wooden wagon wheels
soak up water and tighten their grip on steel bands.

Such a day artist Constable
pleasured when he was a boy,
free to cast a fishing line,
feel the pull of a tugging fish,
ride a horse along the banks of the river,
his dog following along.

Gone now but the painted memories.

- Bernard Gieske, July 14, 2012

The BRAIN TEASE CHALLENGE
YCROTUN = COUNTRY

By Bengieske

© 2015 Bengieske (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The BRAIN TEASE challenge-read page for rules, info, and word to UNSCRAMBLE (challenge has been closed)


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