Golden Ears

CleanSteve and I went up to the farm shop today, after a long lie-in, and on the way back CS stopped to blip a field of wheat. The sun kept popping in and out, and the wind was shaking the wheat ears, so the conditions for macro shots were trying, to say the least. But I did try. The shot on the left of the collage is supposed to show the ears blowing in the wind.

I wrote a poem once about a woman who had to eat a whole field of (raw) wheat, in a strange new version of Rumpelstiltskin. That was before I realised I was wheat intolerant! Now, if it was a field of biscuits, there'd be no problem (not at the time of eating, anyway).

I can't find that poem, so instead I bring you a series of Haiku I wrote about Spain in 1984, when I travelled around (mostly in the region of Andalusia)for six weeks.

Madrid
Noon in the garden
of a thousand roses
he scents only
a girl

Granada
Moorish sun scorches
tired paper soles
tickling lillied feet

Cordoba, San Fermin
In quiet cool
a television:
silent men course bloody streets
black bulls, white shirts, red tears

Cadiz
"Love beyond hope"
sings the black launderess
in siesta-silenced courtyard

Seeds of Utrera
Grind golden hulls
between grey stones
extract
small black seeds of onion