László Reynolds - Chattermarks

All the ground is grown of moss
Confines when days go bad
Early July dawn rime is soft
Under crowning canopies
I think of the reasons
Why an empty field is the better thing

No music, dancing, or food
No woollen mill, no church, or school
There are no chairs, clean carpet hairs
All of our colours here are
Seaward swings and shaky ladders
On a blue, grey, and green theme