Shadow Shot Sunday...Emerald Shadow

She moved through the field
fragile green seas part
'midst fields of gentle dreams
primitive cultures
whisper
cultivate my immortal breast
come o'wistful soul
thresher of thy spirit
your silent sighs
beckon fearless songs
on the wind
the path I weave
my emerald angels shadow
bring to me sweet harvests
till the end of my days
and I will reward thee
with a gentle caress
and sonnets on the breeze
love speaks
on the constant
of each
new
day

s.wilson

I heart Iowa...and why do cows always stand on a hill...

...land of my birth, cultivator of my being...

...tall green fields in the making...

...what better view of my song of life...Iowa...my home, my heart!

Believe it or not, it's Sunday in Australia and Hey, Harriet wants to see your shadows...
please join in, you won't be disappointed...