The Corn Did Talk Poem by GinNie Tanner Smith

I know of a land where the corn fields can truly talk,
And the wind can walk, among countless rows in thought,
Each stalk adorned with proud tasseled tops to flaunt,
Gracefully bending to lend an ear, whispers that we cannot hear,
Although, there was a time I heard it well, a magical day a child holds dear,
A perfect hot summer day, the soft white clouds framed the sky so clear,
There a simple farm-house surrounded within vast acres of verdant hues,
When suddenly the air began to cool, the stalks began to sway and move,
As if discussing something exciting and that of wonderful news,
The sun still bright above my head, as my curiosity grew and grew,
Listening carefully for a clue, to understand what it is they knew,
Venturing within the rows, as the fertile soil caressed my bare toes,
Holding the soft silk within my hands, my spirit asked, what do you know?
I heard distinctly naught to dread, as gentle trickles of rain began to flow,
The wind softly walked among the countless rows,
Along with a child of curious soul, and like the corn, began to grow.