Laying in a field

(A very original poem.) Lying in the field, the poet looks up at the sky and smiles at travelers passing by.

Laying in a field,
Grass: green, soft and wide.
Looking at the velvet sky,
Along this quite country side.

A cloud passes through,
A traveler is on his way.
The wind, his stick, he walks with,
To help him through the day.

His shoes worn very thin,
But walks a steady pace.
Passing through, he looks at me,
Meeting face to face.

I give my friend a smile,
So his traveling will not yield.
I wait for another friend to come,
As I'm laying in this field.

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