A man was singing in a field

A man was singing in a field
Surrounded by grass, he told the song.
It was about how he lived,
How cared about the old home,
His children whom he had brought up,
And who had flown like birds from home,
About his mother’s love in past,
About evenings when was alone.
So he was singing of the land
That he’d protected with the blood.
When years of war had come to end
There was no grass, only grey mud.
A man was singing in a field.
Only the wind could hear the song.
It took the tune by its light wings
And carried far above the world.




Poetry by Alla Antares
Read 792 times
Written on 2008-08-01 at 19:03

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Priya
this is a beautiful song...because this gives the true taste..

nice write
keep it up
2008-08-01