Poems of Pastoral Life
Fields of Harmony In the morning’s gentle glow,Farmers tread the earth below.Golden grains in soft hands pass,Nature’s carpet, green and vast.Cattle graze in quiet peace,Under skies that never cease.Rivers hum a tranquil tune,Beneath the watchful eye of moon.Hands that shape the earthen ware,Bound to land, in open air.Trees that stand in whispered lore,Roots entwined in…