My mind a maze of shifting sand
I retreat to the solitude of land
where quiet settles soft and slow
with sun-soft mist kissing low.
in a world of work and woe I go
to the fallow and the rich plough
to the realm of the fox and hare
I bring my stresses and my mewling care
In the deep and golden soil
I leave the woes of daily toil
In the echo of a pheasant cry
I find again my ease and joy.
©Dave Kavanagh 2016