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As Rain and Field

Donald P. Goodman III

Version 1.0,
Not as the deer pursues the quiet spring through deepest woods, his bitter thirst to slake; nor as the bees, their nectar for to make, must seek for flowers, ever taking wing; no, not as trees their branches outward fling of warm life-giving rays to best partake and their competitors to better break, now starving in the shade their branches bring; No, more as rain and soil, e'er mingling, cool moisture falling on the arid ground which holds the seeds of life, and watering that soil makes life and happiness abound. It's not just that my better half I've found; it's that my good and yours are ever bound.