Fields of Summer
by Dianne Bates
Peakhurst
A wilderness of T-trees
In our paddock playground
One free day in the midst of childhood
A day filled with everything
We are wild things,
Charging, ducking, hiding,
Flies swamping our sweaty faces
A dove, startled, flies up and
Petals fall like a sprinkle of rain
As we play
A game of cowboys and Indians
With imaginary guns
Bang! Bang! You’re dead!
Falling to the ground face-up
Wisps of clouds slide above
As if breathing in and out.
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2
Dianne says: The letter T reminded me of tea-tree bushes that as children my brother, sister and I played among. We didn’t get much time to play as we were forever working on the farm (pigs, goats and poultry).
Australian Children’s Poetry 
Lovely poignant poem Di
Another excellent lyrical poem. So good to travel back and live those times and feelings again, through your words.
Hey, that’s fun to read…I grew up in the Lugarno Peakhurst area…