Tea Peas

Slow the wheat was in the summer lift of a shields wind on the scale of stalk,

the gentle sprinkle of rain from a cloud that once upon a time worked the sleet,

seasons changing shook snow ice to slates blend,

the crust of frost on the fires dice.

Spoken tightly that bread from nail on hammer toned,

an the ear of the corn sent fragrance,

butter churned the cream of crows,

milk called cows and the turnip towed.

Try the seed of snail a banana slug`d replied,

a taste of wisdom soared the skies to empty vacant tides,

desert storms shored the land ask sand, the beach less waters waste,

waving with the tide pools stoned a cactus needle pleased.

Horror did less to blink the best for creeks only wet aprons sleeve,

as the thirst of flash torrents played that stand of dead deserted spans,

trails stepped at print read feat allowing coral to recognize sheets,

that in that change of earth to see the underwaters razors bleed.

So essential sip of what twilight called shipping put to lanes the skill,
harbors found in natures sound a simple bay that stayed,
through length on steam the engines lean was not a railed car,
for on the sorting at the crops the fields new and the harvests brought.

Exclaim expelled that balers lathe touching cobbler by shingle,
advertisement freed the joe of specials like a loin of tender cuts of choice,
shade be ran to not the cloud for ample was the swather,
at each cut of standing shake the oats the hulls the soils raked.

Twine in wire twisted lined the bale fork of hay,
stacks did not do Irish ayes for pitchforks now were hitched for tock,
this was a small matter not to sweat for shoulders are the balance,
to ride to saddle, to harness to bridle, to bit sincerely seat.