Martha's Gift

A man rode in on beat up steed In a tattered cloak, and two bare feet Passing signs, he could not read The town folk gathered,to follow his lead Famine was rampant, food was their need For a stranger to pass here, was a long time indeed and then stood before him, young Martha Meade Her arm was out reached, with a handful of beads He subtly smile, this sign he could read He climbed from his saddle, and bent to one knee He reached in his pocket and pulled out a seed Her smile endearing, her heart without greed He told her to run , to the field bye the reeds and dig a small hole, in the midst of the weeds Then wait a few moments, and soon she would see The likes of a fruitful and mystical tree and yes his words were true indeed Those roots took hold with lightening speed And fluffy clouds could not impede Its quest to all the village feed.