Tall grasses tickle my palm,
As I walk through fallow fields.
The sun warm on my back,
Makes me want to drag my heels.
The grass gets shorter as bushes grow,
Providing partial shade on the ground.
Out of the corner of my eye I glimpse,
A snowdrop nestled on a mound.
My heart sings for the beauty around me,
My heart weeps for the sacrifice to come.
Thunder sounds in the distance,
Mirroring the sacrificial drum.
I was pulled backwards to meet my fate,
I felt the rough bark through my gown.
As I was tied to the sacrificial tree,
They placed on my head a crown.
This was a three word prompt given to me by John Betts from the Facebook group Writers' Soapbox. The three words were snowdrop, thunder and bark.