wheat
Learn more about other poetry terms
She has flowers in her
Golden wheat hair.
Her limbs are tree branches,
With leaves at her fingertips.
Her eyes are brilliant stars;
Her face glows with warm sunlight.
I stand out in the cornfield, alone among strangers
Useless to the farmer who waters and feeds me
The plot of land I sit in, is shaded by the accomplishments of those around me
Proud is the farmer
Lying still, fur marred with dirt
I lie lost in the land destroyed by wind
The ground lay still now
Leaving behind remnants of a once loved town
My heart lay still
The world turns on
People walk over
