A Precious Moment, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
The afternoon sun just short of due west,
A soft wind was blowing from the northeast.
It was the part of the day I liked best,
Able to feel nature’s wonderful feast.
An ocean of wheat so close to my feet.
Wind made toy ripples like waves at the beach.
Did watch it roll all the way to the street.
Soon to be cut a new helper to teach.
Saw an intruder bisecting my wheat.
Crouched over the creature did sneak.
Yelled a fair warning you better retreat.
Was my granddaughter so gentle so meek.
We giggled we laughed unable to speak,
I placed countless kisses on her red cheek.
I have five grandchildren who I have a boundless love for. They make me smile, they make cry, but most of all they give me a feeling inside that I cannot explain. I’ve decided to write a poem especially for each of them. This will take me time. Klara got the short straw, so she goes first. I say that as a joke because of the nature of my poem.
By the way, the painting is by Vincent van Gogh. Its title is The Wheat Field and the Lark finished in 1887. Being totally frank, I wrote the poem then went searching for a painting.