Winter’s green fields come round full with grace.
Valleys run deep to catch the sun’s lace.
Hills and mountains run full yonder cast
a lavender grey mist woes deep from the vast.
Nearby farmhouse stand upright, straight and red
held generations are warm, bred and well fed.
And as the horses, goats, cows all graze in the fields,
it seems that they know of a treasure there sealed.
Peace lies in the whispers and the hallows of red Barn;
In the huddle of chickens and cat nesting in hay yarn.
Here is the core of all life on the farm,
All rest on the eve of a home next to each,
each creature sweet nested, with Farmer in reach.
© 2016 Linda Willows
Photograph by Maleah Torney
Oh Soul, you surge, you arch in love
in gentle passion’s reach above…
For Heavens’ quest is nearer than
the length of Love, the Heart of Man.
Find me turning, find me Out
The Glory called, my name; Devout.
I hear the thunder of Joys’s rain,
Clouds part asunder, Light to gain.
Oh Soul, you let the every part,
come forward, bow and then depart.
Naked stillness forms the glove
of Godly Peace..given to Love.
©2015 Linda Willows
Photography by Hans Peters