The Fallen

Now the fruit has fallen

Rotting on the ground

Seeds a generation

Wanting to be found

Pick the ripe and red one

See if it be sweet

That’s the only measure

One that we will keep

Still the bitter lemon

Has a place I fear

Mixed with sweet and flour

Gives a taste so dear

Now the book is growing

Recipes so clear

With a pinch of loving

Gets us through the year

Winter tho’ be coming

And the field be frost

Still the lowly tubers

Never see us lost

Water, pot and fire

Earth be one of those

Keep us from desire

Keeps away the crows

Now the earth be melting

Through the mud and slosh

Tiny leaves are peeking

Fearful of the frost

Some will grow as mighty

Some will stay below

All will give their bounty

Never wanting owes

Never wanting payment

Never asking why

Only to be growing

Reaching for the sky

Till the season’s harvest

Beauty is its sign

Dressed in red and yellow

Speaks that it is kind

Now you have more measures

Sweetness is just one

Even now the bitter

Stirred until it’s done

See the feast has started

Shout into the field

Everyone’s invited

If our “No” will yield.


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