Hindsight

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I gaze upon a Magritte sky,
Surrealistic clouds pass by.
A far off cry, 'Cuck-oo, cuck-oo'
An old owl answers, 'Who? Who? Who?'

The fields are yellow, green and gold,
A patchwork quilt without a fold.
'Tis Nature painted by man's hand
We see as we gaze o'er the land.

9. Fields
(Heikkilä - McGowan) Jore gives my poem a sixties feel with an upbeat tune and some sound effects. Nothing to be scared of listening to here – though 'patchwork guilt' is actually 'patchwork quilt'......but maybe guilt is better. --Davy

I couldn't pronounce 'guilt' differently from 'quilt' even if I practised that for hours, I guess. I think Davy wrotes these poems in purpose! --Jore