In the country

When looking at a country setting, some
May see the fields and watch a wandering stream
Meander slow, wondering where it’s come
From; and whether the water is quite clean
Enough to scoop up with their close-cupped hands:
The chillness dripping from their fingertips;
They’ll see the ancient bridge and how it spans
Both pasture and meadow, as the time slips
At a bucolic pace; but sir observes
A place to press her down into the dirt
And have her in the mud of any field;
he’ll take her hard in meadows; it may hurt,
Unless resistance ceases as she'll yield
Her rural idyll, knowing he’ll preside
Over her form when in his countryside