Footprints Of The Season

Cherry

By skinner_jennifer

Thu, 25 Sep 2025
  • 103 reads
5 comments
 

Those flaxen days are but

Footprints of summer, when

Making hay declared to be

Bundled,

 

So too; grass maintains its

Quaint meadows that have

No quarrel in green pastures

Where wild flowers grow.

 

Dandilions flirt with daisies

In golden rays...uncultivated

Flowery race is on, who will

Survive?

 

Time does not percieve these

Cherished moments, only

Fate of weather's in charge,

When advancing through

Changing seasons.

 

Image is in the public

domain.

Certificate U
Poem
Poems
Nature

Comments

Submitted by Turlough on

Those flaxen days are footprints of life these days Jenny, not just of summer. In recent years I've watched farmers taking in the hay. The machinery they have is so advanced that they can do it at night in the rain. Farming is well and truly an industry.

 

Time does not percieve these

Cherished moments

 

It saddens me to say they are lost forever in the so-called developed world. 

But on a more cheery note, I enjoyed your reflections of summer.

Turlough

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I love the old ways Turlough. Call me wacky, but watching the old films of families coming together and working the land with blistered hands, yet a feeling of accomplishment is priceless. I love the American Indians and how they appreciated the land, only taking what they really needed, that was till white man came along and burnt their land because of the greed of money and how much wealth mining would bring, and the building of train lines that ran through their land.

Like you say, it saddens me too that those days are lost forever in the so-called developed world. I suppose farmers are suffering because of the hot summers and each morning must wake living on their hope of rain. But I wonder if the weather is to do with how we approach nature today and our need to work with rather than against nature.

You know I could rabbit on all day on this subject, but then it would be too much, so I'd just like to say thank you so much for reading an your stirring comment and your kind thoughts.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by Jane Hyphen on

The reflective quality of those hay bales shimmmering in the sun captures the essence of fading summer. I was driving around Oxfordshire five or six weeks ago and it was like being in Italy, the dry fields dotted with flaxen hay bales. I love, 'no quarrel in green pastures where wild flowers grow'. I've noticed more diversity in the fields this year. What a summer it's been! Great poem Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

It must have been quite something to see fields of hay bales Jane. Of course it's been such a dry summer and the farmers must have been worried for their crops.

Oxfordshire is such a lovely city, I always like a trip down the river when I go there, so peaceful and relaxing.

Glad you liked my poem and thank you so much for your comment, it was appreciated.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

I like very much the idea of days being like footprints. Also, "Flowery race is on, who will / Survive?" is brilliant. You are so good at finding a unique and intimate way of looking at things