There are cornfields here that probably look much like the cornfields in Iowa. Or Ohio.
But these are the ones that surround the turn in the road I took to land me far away from the city I called home my whole life.
And the locals, they are the kind you don’t mind trusting. They seem harmless enough.
Kinda like the locals in Ireland. They’re just…locals.
And the buttercups in spring are just as beautiful here as everywhere too. But they are my buttercups.
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There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow,
There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow,
The corn is as high as an elephant’s eye,
An’ it looks like its climbin’ clear up to the sky!!
Love it Shalagh x
Um, how cool is your little rhyme. Are you quoting it or did you make it up. Because I thought, “Oh how perfect” the moment I read it. Thanks Marge for inspiring the style of this post. Continue to inspire me, please.
Love,
Shalagh