The distance calls. <br />Hedges and dry stone walls <br />On hillsides, flocks of sheep. <br />Rough cliffs high, valleys deep. <br />One stretched out patchwork quilt, <br />Time formed, from rocks and silt. <br />Our planet’s richness shown, <br />Under the sky’s ozone. <br /> <br />The distance calls. <br />Even through heavy squalls, <br />The wind, the trees reshape, <br />Mists falling like a cape. <br />Weathered timber barns, <br />Mountains, vales and tarns. <br />All grace this pleasant earth, <br />Prized beauty of such worth. <br /> <br />The distance calls. <br />Swift rivers, waterfalls <br />All senses become sharp. <br />The salmon, trout and carp, <br />Swim silently and glide, <br />Not easily espied. <br />These lands are fertile still, <br />With stream, with brook, with rill. <br /> <br />The distance calls. <br />Hear cows in cattle stalls. <br />Across the loose blown hay, <br />Their bellows drift away, <br />Fields grassed, look rich and green, <br />The air is fresh and clean. <br />And nature’s cleansed anew. <br />Space for every hue, <br />For what more does one need, <br />Just sun and rain and seed. <br /> <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sun-and-rain-and-seed/
