On the Harvest

van gogh wheat field with crows

A song for the harvest, based on an old tale of folklore… (Painting by van Gogh – Wheat Field with Crows)

In early spring, young dreamer, Silas Crow
Did so lament ‘is status as a farmer..
Nah full o’ fortune, rather full o’ woe:
When came ta growin’ wheat, ‘e were nah charmer…

Crow was ‘is name ’cause ‘e was friend o’ birds.
Nah chased ’em off ‘is field, at cost o’ yield.
The crows ‘e favoured, by ‘is very words,
‘is admiration truly ‘ad been sealed.

One day, while ‘e was fightin’ wi’ some weeds,
(Who seemed to laugh at ‘im – this farmin’ joke)
Young Silas tumbled back, scatterin’ ‘is seeds…
‘e banged ‘is ‘ead… ’til sunset nah awoke.

An’ when ‘is eyes did open, lookin’ down,
There was a friendly crow who opened beak…
Unsure if t’was the injury to ‘is crown,
Young Silas jumped as it began ta speak:

“Farmer…” it started, in a raspy tone,
“Ye wish a noted harvest for the year?”
Silas did nod. “Then seeds are to be sown –
Don’t waste yer time a-sittin’ on yer rear.”

The man got to ‘is feet an’ Crow did spake:
“I’ll ‘elp yer to a rich an’ fruitful yield…
If ye do as I say, wi’ nah mistake,
Yer’ll ‘ave the fullest bounty o’ yer field.”

And with that, Crow did ask of the young man
For half ‘is seed ta feed ‘is birdy friends..
Silas agreed, open to any plan
That might result in any fruitful ends.

So as the year rolled onwards, Summer-bound,
The crops did flourish well, nah pecked an’ small.
Silas came out for battle wi’ the ground,
The ritual pullin’ o’ the weeds so tall…

But suddenly, alighted ‘is friend Crow,
Who merely stood an’ slowly shook ‘is head.
Young Silas stopped an’ leaned upon ‘is hoe
To listen to what Crow came forth an’ said:

“Pull up the weeds, but leave them not to die.
Instead, replant ’em, borderin’ the field.”
Silas, ‘e frowned, an’ questioned Crow: “But.. why?”
Crow laughed: “Ye’ll find a fuller crop so sealed.”

So Silas did ‘is biddin’… an’ come time
Ta reap the fruits o’ harvest fer the year,
‘E did indeed each farmer’s yield outshine.
‘E gathered crops an’ grinned from ear to ear.

After the grand harvest celebration,
When Silas took the crown fer best o’ show,
The bird flew down an’ by ‘im took ‘is station.
Silas did thank an’ praise that wily crow.

The crow explained: “Plants are like earthly balance…
Each brother needs ‘is siblin’ to be close.
A man can have a lifetime full o’ talents,
But listen to this Crow, so well verbose…”

“Without the vicious weed, there is no flower.
Without the lengthened nights, no rest for sun.
For now, ivy takes oak within its power…
The tapestry o’ nature here be spun.”

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On the Harvest