Country Bound
I travel down a mellow, yellow sunflower road upon miniscule
“wishing” pebbles. A monument stands
tall amiss sprightly wildflowers. Rustic,
red barn, tell me your wisdom, tell me your stories. A split rail fence is my guide, built by
thick, rough hands. It dances to a
patterned rhythm around a charming, pastel blue farmhouse. I am country bound, my soul to be found.
I pass by a field flowing with radiant corn. Stalks stand tall, presiding over misty
pastures. Golden wheat is nuzzled with
sunny rays. It waltzes with the wind and
tangos with blades of grass. Hearts of
farmers beat in rolling hills, growing “love soy seeds”.
An apple pie sits on a crackled window sill cooling for attention. Cinnamon swirls through a two-story
house. Maple beans, sweet greens, and
cornbread overflow the Amish-built table.
Greens pop into savoring mouths.
Sugary beans candy-coat the taste buds.
Crumbs of cake-like cornbread seek shelter in a course beard. The lonely Granny Smith dessert gets
adoration from “sweet tooth seekers”.
Irish Ballads are sung and jolly tales are told around table of “Hickory
old”.
The sun is my map down lavender Lilac road. Hello, downy bunnies. Hello, Mr. canny toad. Point me in the direction to “Oakley Drive”. I pass by glistening pond. Let’s go my “deer” take a sip and back into
playhouse of Birch. “Woody” my fellow,
you’re carving a cello! Sly fox, my lad, it’s been grand!
Cheerio, woodsmen of the Maples. Cheerio, flittering butterflies upon dewy
Honeysuckles. I stroll over round stones
paving my countryside goodbye. Back to
coffee zest town. Spirit full and lighthearted, my soul has been country bound.
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