Sheep by the River Avon

Alone with my thoughts,
I travel by bus
Riding through England’s farmland.
The low-hanging clouds
And rain pouring down
Obscure my dreams and visions.

The sun breaks through
And brightens the view
Of sheep by the River Avon
And Queen Anne’s lace
Lifting its face
To the warmth that was long gone.

Fields and hillsides
Beneath clearing skies
Are traced in unknown shapes.
Jigsawed by hedges
And cut into wedges
They are grazed on by cattle and sheep.

As evening draws nigh
I let go a sigh,
Content with events of the day.
I made a new friend,
The day can now end
With tomorrow not far away.


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