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Rhyme --- 2025 January 03

Time hands seconds past the minute,
winter melts the sands,
sprung barter the seeds to take root,
petals leave for lands.
Abandoned juice bathes the barren,
weather soaks wet dreams,
towering outstretched limbs fashion,
cries tear up the streams.
Quartered the core green overgrowth,
sweet fester the sour,
fertile soil sources root approach,
West turn sunset lour.
Stockers fatten wanting store shelves,
greens packaged refreshed,
farmers loaded like Christmas elves,
checks at counters cashed.
Shoppers and grocers swapping smiles,
carts staggering highs,
past harvested fields, endless miles,
as New Year's Eve, nigh's.
Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2025
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