Answered.

 

Answered.

In its dying moments the sun crept
into haziness making the sky's
veils into buttery bands
as end-of-day yellowness swept
flat the tree-lined horizon.

Cows in green fields dun-dappled
by shadows, chewing late cud
trundled along milk-laden
as pail-in-hand maidens tackled
the beasts' steamy arrival.

Captured and answered the music
of duty that follows slow plod
of men's satisfied footsteps
as night casts job ending for some
while others start the final.

Reviews

[Jimmy Yetts]

A vivid and artistic portrayal.
Has an almost "You Are There" feel.
Thoroughly enjoyed this exceptional poem, Fay!

[Fay Slimm]

Am delighted the reading took you into the scene and gave you an inkling of life in those bygone times Jimmy - - around here though in the outreaches of Cornwall U.K. milking is still done by hand on some small holdings. My thanks for your supportive review.

[Neville]

As my today nears its end.. I can imagine the scene you paint so eloquently here and maybe fall asleep with a smile on my face and rise early as needs must... then neck my glass of milk and down a thick slab of bread and butter and away...... Cheers Fay.... N

[Fay Slimm]

So glad the read soothed you into a smile my friend as with homecoming farm-folk may your today end with peaceful sleep until that early rise to quick breakfast of a successful tomorrow - my warm thanks for your lovely review........... Fay.