The golden sheaves of wheat sway high in the fields, A bounty of summer, rich harvest yields. The corn is a sentinel, standing so tall, Witness to moments both mundane and enthrall.
The twilight swathes the world in a dusky embrace, And stars punctuate sky in their luminous grace. Each whisper of wind through high branches stirs, Nature’s soft cadence, her symphonious lures.
- Willa Cather