The Purity Wheat Domain

Hectic red steadfast on earth and anchored fast Caught in the beginning of the end of working days To yield a common profit from the land as harvested On beams of yellow sun light set in motion in the Spring Beings on oceans of colors with orange poppy fields That only feel the warmth of winds circumference Along with golden wheat that is ready to be taken in Before eaten by Winter strangers and their friends In a spectacle of hills rolled up in evening green Beds of vegetation dream of wheat in foreign lands Under blankets of sky pulled up to open window ledges A baker gives full attention to making bread The aroma drifts to the seashore close While Spring goes back to sleep at peace And near enough to hear the ocean break Collapsing waves upon the shells already there Someone in the wooden cabin listens fervently Watching out for Summer whispering in An open vase or vessel fills with country air Prepared to hold the flowers of the field Cut with kindness ready for the dinner table Bread and water are there for company As well as comfort for some weary bones An old couple still find romance in holding hands Vast open lands that radiant with natures colors Require receptacles made of clay to celebrate To display the beauty of the day while saying grace Wind and rain bring back the wheat fields from the past Swaying flags of yellow gold on beams of light Anchored from the soil up to the sky Boundaries emergent to lift the fleeting eye Flickering light might indicate the end of power Only shade can hide a candle going out at night In reference to the Purity Wheat Domain It remains the same in brightness