Fields emptied
Silos filled
Soon the loaves
From flour milled
Silos filled
Soon the loaves
From flour milled
Tag: farming
Golden
The wheat goes ever on and on
O’er the hill and far beyond
In row on subtle row it grows
The fruit of heart and hand and mind
The gold beneath the indigo
O’er the hill and far beyond
In row on subtle row it grows
The fruit of heart and hand and mind
The gold beneath the indigo
Wealth From A Golden Land
A man of the city
Standing
In an open land
Amber and azure
Wheat waist high
Scattered clouds
Dot the sky
Standing
In an open land
Amber and azure
Wheat waist high
Scattered clouds
Dot the sky
And I wonder
That I have never stood
In a field of grain
Ripened
Ready for harvest
This golden crop
The wealth which builds cities
Known to urbanites like me
Only as bread
Or an image on a cereal box
Too Late and Far Too Much
It tastes like despair
The air
Like defeat and despair
The charged atmosphere
Alive after the months
Of dead, dry heat
The air
Like defeat and despair
The charged atmosphere
Alive after the months
Of dead, dry heat
Thunder rolls
Across the parchment plains
Rain is coming
Too late
And far too much
What little soil remains
After wind storms
And dust clouds
Carried the best of it
Off to the East
Will wash away
Rivulets cutting small canyons
Deep into the earth
Pix to Words 