Daily Bread

Form: Raven’s Rovi Sonnet 113

A grain to grace the farmer’s field
An ocean of green on a breeze
It waves gently between the weald
And from the grain we make our bread
For nature brings us all our food
And from the dairy butter spread
For the mother to feed her brood
And poet writes for life rejoice
Before greed takes over the head
Without the grain we would be screwed
So give thanks for the farmer’s yield
From his field between woodland trees
Lift up the heart, give thanks a voice
We are lucky to have a choice


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