Soft the rain
Cold the soil
The rhythm of the wind
Transforms
The forest to the ocean
Waves crashing
Splashed
In the spray
Salty
Only my sweat
Sweeter the ground
Must be
Counting the worms
Sliding away free
Soft the wind
Wet the rain
The rhythm of the spade
Transforms
The soil to a treasure chest
Patches alive
Splashed
In colour
Sweet
Its rich flavour
A taste sensation
Harvested
New growth
Stimulated free
By Simone Beatrice Naik Noemdoe,
2012-05-14.
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