Untitled for Others 7 – Lying in the Cornfield
Eyes closed as the sun beats down
And the distinctive perfume of the country
Agitates the mild South Westerly
Bending the corn in a coupled direction.
Pause to drink cool water from the pool.
High summer 1862 in contrived scenery
The Suffolk youth blinks in the sun
And considers his sheep as they dawdle.
Gifted to the nation in the golden age of painting,
Portraitist Sir William with Faraday with science,
Balanced by the sweet romanticism of Wordsworth
Who recognises the secret communion of nature with a boy.
The ears, they bend and nod assent to the whispering breeze
And murmur ‘time passes it is time to return'.
The young man rises and he calls to his sheep
The happy homecoming preserved forever in room 34.
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