Seed Money
All nine feet of green, moving through the reeds
Leaving around town strange packets of seeds
With a note, asking a curious deed
To till at night only, with utmost speed
Sunburn strips the magic, leaving just weeds
My Pa lectured it would never succeed
But having a number of mouths to feed
Under the moon, I planted what we'd need
For a crop to nourish, flower and breed
Townsfolk thought me foolish, would scoff and plead,
'Recover your senses; they're worthless beads!'
Yet they leapt by cresting heights to exceed
The sky's wide reach, blossoming a stampede
Of gold coins, rubies, and diamonds - indeed!
8/16/20
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