1/11/2015 1 Comment Golden light is turning grey...Golden light is turning grey,
Mists begin to rule the day. Bare the trees, their branches lift; Clouds of dead leaves earthward drift. Through the field the farmer goes, Seeds of ripened corn he sows; Trusts the earth will hold it warm, Shelter it from cold and harm. For he knows, that warmth and light Live there, hidden from our sight; And beneath a sheltering wing, Deep below, new life will spring! Deep below, deep below, new life will spring!
1 Comment
Nicole
1/11/2017 10:49:46 pm
I just stumble across you guys, and I love this poem! And all your ideas here so far. :)
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