Ponies run wild in the fields,
the long grass mixing with the hay.
The beautiful flowers meet the ponies feet
and the sky is clearless today.

Two young boys, up a brown oak tree
clearly expressing their minds.
Clearly and freely as the ponies below,
making use of a waste of time.

Piglets are growing beyond near,
sown from their mother's seed.
Free to grow, large and outward,
free to have all that they need.

The oak tree is brown and new,
and does little to stop the sun.
The sun illuminates its landscape,
the landscape near and gone.

Electricity is sky blue,
and wonderful in daylight.
The stupid horse will get scared,
try to run - try to fight.

It can't win.

The two boys know this,
as they relax in their tree.
They're farmers, but not out of choice,
but out of who they were born to be.