I often wondered how my high school English teacher could
say with such certainty what a 17th or 18th century poet
meant in the cloaked verses of our anthologies! In fact in my final English
exam I remember phrasing some of my answers to reflect these doubts with
comments like, The poet may have been referring to…. or, it’s possible
that the poet was thinking…. and in one answer, our teacher said that……,
but I think …..! Maybe that’s why my grade was not as high as I’d hoped!
While standing at the bottom of a harvested barley field
early in the morning with patient Bella at my feet, I tapped these words into
my Blackberry memo pad:
Crass naked stalks where golden barley e’er did wave in
gentle breezes
playfully.
Hard huddling hollow brown and yellow clumps bereft of
childhood games.
But to the sun whose light is golden,
still a beauty lies beside
dark guardian trees and passing clouds;
admired by those who see beneath the discipline
of necessity.
It was a beautiful fresh sunny morning with the sun weaving
in and out of grey-white clouds and it struck me that we often speak of ‘golden
barley fields’ (immortalised by Sting!) but usually it’s the before-harvest
picture! So to see that harvested field with the sun lighting it up was a
beautiful scene. At that point my mind was not on ‘lessons of life’ or ‘deeper
meanings’! I just wanted to describe what was before me in poetic language.
(photo from http://www.ebyte.it/logcabin/stans/AfterTheHarvest.html via Google images)