I wandered along the meandering path
through the golden wheat fields
ahead the temple of offerings and feasts
all seasoned by the surrounding wheat
the locals fermented it to become jolly
stories evolved of the grain a grieving
mother carried door to door praying
her son would be resurrected if she
could only find one household not
impacted by grief …
others engraved the fine grains
with tiny messages of love
this rich wheat area had hardships
but was filled with golden heads of love
some wove the ripened heads into
little symbolic bouquets
and by the rushing river a little mill
stood grinding that grain to make
paratha naan roti and other breads
a bountiful crop ensured a good year
d’Verse, wheat, Rosma – pinterest pic
There is a mystical and wondrous feel to the customs around wheat designed to please the grain deities in your poem.
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Golden wheat fields are a true symbol loaded of memories ; I like them and also your poetry ,Kate.
Love ❤
Michel
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There are so many great loaves of bread to be made from the grains… and flatbreat, and pancakes as well.
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Beautifully delicate and mysterious. I feel this reminds me of Robert Frost in some lines! An excellent piece and a fantastic take on the prompt.
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Kate, this poem paints a beautiful harvest scene. I liked it a lot! All the best! ❤ Cheryl
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There’s something to be said about harvesting wheat. I liked the emotional and mystic aspects.
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The middle of our state, the Palouse prairies, are wheat wonderlands, mile upon mile of amber grains dancing in the wind.
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wow that would be quite a sight … these are the much smaller fields I traversed in northern India
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Nicely put together – the rituals and beliefs! I’m with you on Indian breads 😃
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Such a lovely harvest poem. Well done!
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What a lovely ending, with the end product, a bountiful crop to feed communities.
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Ahh… the golden harvest, enriching the lives of country ways……
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A fantastic poem Kate.
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Well composed and the stories give this depth !
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Very nicely done! I enjoyed your story of the wheat….
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Lovely Kate. Very spiritual ☺️💕
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Great wordplay in the title, Kate. Your tribute to wheat and harvest is full of interesting facts. I love the idea of engraving grains of wheat with tiny messages of love.
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Wonderful, SweetKate! And hearing the stories and about the messages of love made this so heart touching!
So grateful for the wheats (and all grains and seeds) and for the amazing breads and other foods the harvest provides!
Someone(s) will eat today because of the planted seeds and tenderloving care the seeds received.
HUGS!!! 🙂
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yes imagine the number of hours of labour of love that go from plowing the field right up to the loaf of bread or pint of mead we consume … seems we pay a small price for all that input 🙂
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“this rich wheat area had hardships
but was filled with golden heads of love”
you captured the hard toil behind the sweetest harvest. love the indian breads here, too! a creative take, dear Kate!
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thanks so much for the great prompt!
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Marvelous poem and with just a grain of wheat so many people can do so many different things that can come in use as rotis, parathas, bread etc. So beautifully written, Kate. Lovely.
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thanks so much Kamal, appreciate you stopping by!
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Beautiful poem.
I could visualize a village in India after harvest.
I hope every farmer is so blessed.
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Every word is done beautifully on simplicity of life, laden with hope and food after the harvest. This poem is an ode to Indian farmers brings so much joy and a fitting tribute.
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I love the “story” and “stories” of wheat you weave into your poem here. Wheat has many symbolic powers in mythology, in folklore. I have a wonderful Christmas ornament that I bought in the Amana colonies when we lived in Iowa. It is a small bouquet of wheat tied with a very thin red ribbon…..Your words “some wove the ripened heads into little symbolic bouquets” reminded me so much of this ornament. Each year, when the Christmas season is over, I take this ornament off our tree and carefully wrap it in tissue paper and place it on top of other ornaments, careful not to crush the “heads” and the shafts of the wheat. To me it represents the fertility of the land and our rural life days in Iowa.
This is a beautiful poem.
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so glad it brought back so many warm memories Lillian, appreciate your comment!
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I remember reading the series of books “The Clan of the Cave Bear” – one character collected the grasses (wheat) from areas that they passed through during their migrations in an attempt to find the best grains to plant for the next time they settled.
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my mother loved that series!
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