EXISTENCE

I was very fortunate in having one of my poems published in our local church magazines recently, and thought I would share it with you.

A little fieldmouse, nibbling fallen grains
On the edge of a summer wheat field,
Apprehensively glances at the clear, blue sky
Where danger's never far away,
Whence any moment hawk may swoop
And dash out his little life.

But it's summer and the sun is warm;
The ripe corn smells good, and the shed grains
Are spread on the earth for his dinner,
He is happy and that is all that matters.

Even if these be his last few moments
The gift of existence will have been worthwhile,
Risk, danger, death, and all
How else could things have been arranged.

The weather at the weekend has been glorious, so much so that we were able to eat Al Fresco in the garden. Tables and chairs, hammocks, large parasol, and coloured lanterns attached to the apple tree, which is in full blossom at present.
We only had a number of ten people including some of our family, but it was great fun, and we stayed long into the evening with much social chatter, and I have to say the wine did flow, not purple I hasten to add, but near enough.

Wow, we have all come along way on Purplecoo since it began two weeks ago, and what a circle of friends we have. Westerwitch and Lixtroll are just amazing, and deserve a medal. I wonder where we would be if it had not been for them, certainly not on the other planet.