Walking in a Field (Poem, 1970)

When walking in a field,

Admiring the weedy ground,

My knees did yield,

To a daisy found.

Engulfed in my fingers,

As if growing there,

Its freshness lingers,

In the scented air.

Walking in a field,

Of bountiful, buzzing bees,

I watch them yield,

To the nectar in daisies.

Walking in a field,

I spot a field mouse,

I see the ground did yield,

So he could build a house.

Walking in a field,

A bird flies to a tree,

The branch did yield,

To his feathered body.

Walking in a field,

Weedy carpet of green,

Gladly did it yield,

So harmony could be seen.

Walking in a field,

Acts as a cure.

We all must yield,

And learn from nature.

Walking in a field,

An experience so pure,

I would gladly yield,

To the harmony of nature.