Sonnet 4

In the Field

Look at my yard, see all the weeds;
it takes no time at all for them to grow.
Surprising because I sowed no seeds—
’tis aggravating! I don’t want to mow!

But look, sprinkled in, the yellow and pink
blooms well loved by butterfly and bee.
They stop awhile to get a quick drink;
it’d be a shame to deny them their glee.

I’ll put off the chore until tomorrow,
and instead join the insects in the field.
Forget the weeds, the troubles and sorrow;
when I look at the flowers my soul is healed.

Seldom ever is there a field of waste—
Beauty will grow in the same place.