The Field

There once was a forgotten muddy field,

In it a home simple and modest,

Who lived there nobody knew,

They didn't care, they didn't have a clue,

Apart from a boy with his dad,

He saw beauty in the field and this made him glad,

No one else could see, 

There was something in the air, something he could tell, 

Something he could hear, something he could smell,

He had a feeling, a sense, that something mattered, something was strong,

Something was sublime,

Something was mysterious,

Something that in time would shine!

Then one day a Poppy seed fell into the field,

Roots grew and the seedling sprouted,

A beautiful flower soon grew.

In the bright Spring sun the Poppy dazzled with delight,

And people stopped to marvel as it shone in the light..

Soon thousands of Poppies filled the field,

And Dandelions, Daisies, Tulips and Daffodils, Sunflowers and all number of marvelous herbs, Rosemary, Sage, Thyme, Parsley and Coriander and many more plants and flowers...

The fertile field drew people from near and far,

People rode by bicycle, on foot and by car,

The home remained humble and wise,

As the home was beautiful and that's where it lies,

The crux of the story...

It doesn't matter where you are,

A beautiful soul is like a shining star,

The boy with his dad are now friends with the people at the home,

They had a special connection that was deep within,

The beautiful field would forever be there, 

It's the heart that matters, the courage and the care,

To see beyond and to see into the soul, 

To make a true friend,

and to be there with them to the very very end.