Earth


The soil is rich and within there is growth,
Tears and passion create fertile fields,
Solid is the base but tenuous be the seeding,
Only one will bring a feast to the soul.

Plowing furrows of fields unknown,
Planting seeds that might not grow,
Sifting chaff to find the way,
Waiting for a harvest to fill the table.

Tending the crop with care and devotion,
Precious seeds sprout forth to reveal emotion,
Beware dangers spoken from locust,
Love's scythe will reap the rewards provided.

Eric B. Ramey

Copyright ©2005 Eric B. Ramey

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