Hay Harvest


to the sound of  water

creak from the attic floor.

Voices croak

with cloud-filled slumber,

curtains slide

to rolling fields.


A sage green barn

amid billowing oak,

the rose cottage

shines in morning dew.

Scarlet windows

like Autumn berries,

the haw, the spindle

in fairy hedgerows.


Virginia creeper

hugs my window,

claret leaves quiver

the crisp September air.

Breakfast bowls

rattle clean from the dishwasher

as morning stirs

on Fairymount farm.

© Máire



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