“Fields”

I’m trying something new today. I’m gonna jump into the deep end and publish my first poem. As Frank Sinatra would say, “This is my first affair, please be kind.” Let me know if you like it. If you don’t like it, buzz off. Actually, I don’t care what you think. I like it and this is my poem and I stand by it. I’m not being defiant……you are.

Haha, Reid

---

“Fields”

Dreams come alive

In the fields of my mind

Kids chirping, running, playing ball

Chasing bugs, and each other

 

Humid summer days

Indian summer nights

Hot air balloons floating while we’re chasing

Dad, girl, and a little boy

Dreaming of Forever

 

Dad relaxing with a beer in one hand

Me in his other

Memories seared into the mind eternally

Playing catch, hitting balls

A boomerang, a kite

Gathering fireflies

We used to call ’em lightning bugs

 

Young love, it lasts forever

Memories of feeling small

Always safe, always safe

Near the weeping willows

The creeks and lakes

Horses in the tall grass prairie

Feeling less safe, yet more adventurous

 

Fields of hope, joy, memories

In the recesses of the brain

Nature walks and fireworks

Everlasting dreams start in the field

For both Father and Son

 

A romance never to return

A boy and his friends

A father’s protective presence

Lying in the grass

looking up at the puffy

white clouds overhead.

 

Fathers and sons

Dreams that last forever

They start in the fields

Some dreams shall never die.