Sonnet

Fresh and green are the pastures.
Where he gives me repose.
Nature raptures.
Softly the wind blows.

In a wooded valley.
I walk down a broad flat swathe of pasture.
A verdant narrowing alley.
I dawdle, there is no need to go faster.

A hare gambles away.
Bare trees, a pheasant rises.
The sky yellows at the end of the winter’s day.
I am utterly alone, there are no surprises.

I am led to the restful waters of a stream.
It is time to go home and come out of this dream.

Haiku

Hare gambles away
A pheasant rises squawking.
The sky yellows pink