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By: Sunbleach9~

Fertile farms o’er rolling hills
of green and autumn’s rainbow
.
Winter’s glaze o’er pond and sky
and quilted bed by window
.
Aromas bright of summer nights
and burning leaves of autumn
.
Of apple cider, onions fresh,
sweet corn and milk~I’ve got ’em
.
With maple overtones~
the leaves and syrup cones
.
And friendships ever grown
mature through farming bones
.
And crisp, small towns
of home
.

RWHand~1998