Best Wheat Poems

Blowing Blissfully In Immense Wheat Fields Of Fertile Minds

Upon the soft winds and the unenduring pallid breeze
with its ragged, hot breath a flaming torch of...

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Upon the wind sheltered hillside,
the sharp tang of metal and the sting of salt air lay
over a field of blood-red poppies, no Flanders Field.

At years...

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**REFLECTION**

Running through a wheat dream
Clear skies, worms and flies, my face cries
Surrounded by silver streams
I stumbled into a valley where sleepness never dies
A manger on...

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Welcome to my ----- life
A beautifully broken aura
             Unsettled flakes
   ...

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The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
     ...

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The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
Over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.

Stands the Combine in the...

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When Thor struck his hammer
upon the flat ground on Earth
it was the pieces withstood the blow we named rock,
constructs we came to know as the...

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Abigail’s Spring - Favorite 

Beneath the shelter of winter’s barren arbor
My winter abused heart
Watches the day’s light linger in the sky resisting darkness -
Begging to...

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A field of wheat cloaked in dewy silence
the orchestra tunes up with avian arias
bullfrog basses and a choir of cawing crows,
xanthic sunflowers turning their heads...

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As the sun arose in the eastern skies 
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle 
and her tiny lips, curl...

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The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a...

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One dark night a saucer crashed;
the military quickly cleaned up the trash.
In the distance, what they didn’t see;
a thin, white face between the trees.

Once all...

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A fleck of wheat along the bay
A quiver in the grass,
While daybreak shifts and ripples on
To mirror clouds that pass.

Warm breezes drift among the trees,
So...

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My love is gone, but he has not gone far.
I see his golden locks in waves of wheat,
the blaze of his blue eyes in each...

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Long gone are the golden
Dusty days!
Where once, like Blazons
On Armorial Shields,
The gathered bronze sheaths 
stood -
Cut through at the stalk...
Raised from time honoured
swathes.

Burnished like brushed...

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