Dawned On The Farmer Poem by Tom Navarro

The fruit of your smile
Apple of the eye
The smell of divine apples
Is in your breath
Breathing it in
Ambrosia to the face.

You are no goddess
I dare not say it
Or they put us to the test
We might regret it
Worship is only for the Heavenly
We are still on earth.

Harvest is perpetual
The farmer is in me
Farther shall I furrow
The barley in the field
Wield that scythe
Cut down my solitude.

You are no farmer's wife
You are much more than that
You came down on earth
Where I tilled the soil
Made my blood boil
Fields are always in thrall.

Seasons must be reasons
Reasons must be seasoned
Seasoned are your seasons
You are the reason of my reasons.