Monday, June 16, 2008

In fallow fields (for Uncle Oliver)

Charles Oliver Styles

In farmer’s fallow fields
from tent and caravan
new seeds were sown.
On seaside beach
from pulpit dune
words and action,
grains of life
mix cry of gull
and childhood shriek of fun.
Then from the planting,
and shifting sands,
from tall tales told
and flannelgraph panoramas,
heaven alone knows
the magnitude,
and will reap
its crop.
Another hillside, centuries past,
another voice with words of love
and life in story disguise
fed and watered
a crop
that nurtured
the voice in farmer’s field.

1 comment:

Cami said...

How very, very touching. He was born the year my grandfather was, who died just a few years ago himself.