Monet's Field

With hues of blue above my head
I wandered through his painted field
The dappled sky throws soft the light
Upon the ground scattered bright
Of yellow and blue and poppy red
His flowers of summer strewn.

My thoughts of brush and palette fed
He had dabbled and daubed to blend
With perfection on his canvas bear
One day filled with summer fair
My mind was distant thinking be
As I walked in Monet's field.

How sweet the night and tender day
When in that meadow I did see
Birds were fleeing from distant trees
That drifted on a summer breeze
 Wafting perfume through the air
As I walked in Monet's field.

Shadows formed upon the flowers
From blue and white scudding clouds
Floating above his poppies of red
I stooped to pick when butterflies fled
His flush of flowers they did bloom
As I walked in Monet's field.

Night drops upon the robin's breast
Shadows form as day has flown
Not yet as his intrepid hand
Still forms its perfection sound
Warm the day was long and carefree
As I walked in Monet's field.

Tread softly as the night comes nigh
Upon his flowers before me shed
For they must remain for all to see
To capture its essence of summer feel
Through half the day I did saunter
As I walked in Monet's field.

The clouds above I did follow
White tipped grey with blue behind
Becoming part of Monet's art
Drifting slowly white as wool
Sweet meadow here with flowers full
As I walked in Monet's field.

Few birds float upon the air
To glide and disappear from here
I'm lost in Monet's painting be
Don't find me where I can see
What now will those clouds behold
As I walked in Monet's field.

If I should slow and tarry here
Leave me in that painting free
A starry night above most bright
Deliver thee from this artist's light
Summer's breath upon me breathing
As I walked in Monet's field.

Into evening's slumber be 
Shadows casting ere sun has gone
Clouds hung loose above my musings
Lest I forget this tranquil blessing
Captured blues and reds so vivid
As I walked in Monet's field.