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Carl D'Souza Jul 25
I am eating delicious
sweet corn and chicken soup:
sweet crunchy corn,
soft flavorsome garlic,
stringy delectable egg,
tasty chewy chicken,
and hot savory broth
which warms my torso;
I am enjoying
the experience
of being alive
while eating.
JT Nelson Jun 11
I dreamt that
The sweet corn
Was ready in the fields

Then I awoke
And realized
That it’s only June

So now I’m sadly
Disappointed that
I’ve got two months to wait.
Seriously.... bring on the sweet corn fresh from the field. Boil it up... Butter and salt... boom.
Seanathon Jun 1
Somewhere in a meadow
Beneath the rows of fielded corn
Between the sky, above a water way
Where a million tiny ears are born
And listening to the winds of voice
To the cackle of crows driving away a hawk
Living there, somewhere amongst a meadow seeded
Are a thousand, growing, listening stalks
All born to stand, but not to walk
It's no crime to stand. Not all are meant to walk.
as jerry's
belligerent brung
his ***
to harry
her cheat
she sat
there in
lav and
really acted
amazed and
with her
blazon chest
that she
showed upstairs
was prime
of her
life now
Johnny walker Jan 14
Fields of golden corn to where I played as a child
to lay on my back feeling the warmth of the
sun
A cooling summer breeze passing through the field of gold making  the corn
sway as If like waves upon a sea
White fluffy clouds that pass on high laid watching as they form pictures In the sky briefly passing over the
sun
Causing sudden chills whilst laid on my back of summer days In beautiful fields if
gold
To Remember fields gold cooling breeze that cause
the corn to sway like waves upon the sea whilst laid on summer days In fields of
gold
Katelyn Billat Jul 2018
I was making my way down
The highway,
Cornfields on both sides of me.
The moon shined even though
It was still day time.
The sky was a light lavender shade
That oozed into a faded blue
Twilight, you could say.
I caught a glimpse of a doe
And her baby
Walking through the endless field.
My mind wandered.
Where did they come from?
Perhaps they came from
Deep in the woods,
Where the birds sang
And the creek bubbles,
The sun seeps through the trees.
Perhaps all the animals got along,
Or maybe,
They came from an open field,
Maybe they had a family,
A buck, a herd,
Possibly even a few more fawns.
Maybe something drove them from there.
Maybe a gun,
Maybe a predator,
Maybe weather.
My mind wandered more,
Where were they going?
Were they looking for somewhere safe?
Or were they only trying to survive?
I wished I could see more of their journey.
I wanted to root them on.
Keep living!
Keep fighting!
Where ever you're off to, keep going!
Then the moment passed,
They were long out of my sight.
I hope they are still alright.
I hope they were alright.
fresh and printed new
as the glistening morn dew
tis a lovely view

old and so well worn
as the near dead cobs of corn
tis a sight forlorn
Conor Letham Oct 2017
peeled back eyelids
splay venous binding;
snake skin exoskeleton
though not brittle but
woven like rope
stretches its casket,

though tenuous, its
compound dimples
gaze as pupils not
sure where the
sun is meant
to be

I leave
a jilted shell -
afterbirth horror! -
as forgone lifebearer
so that by contract,
unspoilt to be ridden,

a progeny delights
in its own delicacy.
Where a flower advertises its sexuality, it is the child that comes to fruition and then barrenness through no fault of its own.
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