Poems for years 4 and 5 of the Promptly Poetry Challenge. |
A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course). |
Wheatfield The ripened wheat waves in the autumn sun but to whom does it wave? Goodbye to growth, of course, but who stops to view it? Just the one, and that’s to thee, a last farewell, a final oath of service ‘fore the reaper’s blade, fresh sharpened, descend to lay these golden sheaves in silent rows obedient to earth. And so the miller’s heartened, winnowed grain be crushed beneath the grinding stone, and transformed now to sacks of powdered white, ruddy faces pale with dust tote flour to the carts which, creaking now with burden piled on high, bring bounty of the field and mill to baker’s waiting arts. Then the mix, the knead, the prove, and so unto the fire, in searing heat these seeds of grass become the bread that fills our hungry bellies. So our numbers ever higher do teem to fill the world, new generations bred. The ripened wheat waves in the sun, it waves to you of course; your servant now that it is done, content to be our source. Line count: 20 Rhymed abab For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 7 2023 Prompt: As per illustration. |