Fly to Fields

Of clover.

Mysteries of life abound
Enigmas by the plenty
Searching in my cupboards
They are all but empty

Have they up and flown away
And where could they have gone
My head’s empty of ideas
I’m listening for the dawn

The chatter of yesterday
Issues and headline news
Reverberate in my brain
And wait in lengthening queues

Disseminating what is left
And counting the issues
Tears drop like silver rain
Someone passes the tissues

In the morn before the dawn
I drink dreams in my sleep
Some stay embedded
Others counted as sheep

In and out of ideas
The files are flowing over
Time to do a headspace clean
And fly to fields of clover

Out past my understanding
Where thoughts have flown away
They reside out in the nether
Till another day

©

David Rudder
2023

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