“Fields of Spring” by Dianne Bates

3 Comments

Fields of Spring

 

A wilderness of tea-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

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.

 

© Dianne Bates

 

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3 thoughts on ““Fields of Spring” by Dianne Bates

  1. Dear Di – what a gorgeous poem! i loved the clouds breathing in and out. I wish i could write like you, for kids – each metaphor wihtin thier grasp, but beautiful as well. Mine don’t work nearly as well for kids, though not bad for adults…And what a lovely photo Jeanie found for it as well!

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