Down where the Magnolia's blossoms
Open a creamy white
Modena touched sunrise wakes
Sleepy eyes, clouds take flight
Geese loudly honk a wake-up tune
Emphasized by Dove's coo
As the sunrise changes to pale pink
Against a sky so blue
Dew touches low growing wheat
In fields ripe for harvest
There the laborers are few
Wheat's touched by winds unharnessed
Winds blow in from the north, northeast
Put that wheat 'pon the ground
Ruined in this the ripest stage
Never more to be sound