Matt Mooney - Cornfields

This year's maize turns green to yellow,
Ripening by the hour in Healy's fields:
Corn with a continental look,
Growing near the grotto in Killocrim;
Showing off its kilt of summer sheen
To your left and to your right;
Waving acres reaching to the river Feale,
Where philosophical fishermen unwind.

Matt Mooney

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cornfields/