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FEBRUARY
In January's chill, the earth lies still,
Under a blanket of frost, it dreams until,
The hands of farmers, strong and true,
Awaken the land with work to do.
The soil, like a canvas, cold and stark,
Awaits the plow's first decisive mark,
As furrows form, neat rows in line,
A promise of harvest in due time.
Seeds are sown with hopes held high,
In the depth of winter, beneath the sky,
With every prayer and patient toil,
They nurture the land, rich in soil.
Cows in barns and sheep in pens,
The farmer's life, through trials and bends,
They tend to livestock, their gentle care,
For a bountiful season, they prepare.
Beneath the pale sun's weak embrace,
The barns and fields find their place,
January's work, a humble start,
In the farmer's rhythm, a work of heart.
For in the cycle of seasons, we see,
Farming's gift, a vital decree,
January's promise, the first of many,
A year of abundance, for which we're ready.
© DMN 2023
Under a blanket of frost, it dreams until,
The hands of farmers, strong and true,
Awaken the land with work to do.
The soil, like a canvas, cold and stark,
Awaits the plow's first decisive mark,
As furrows form, neat rows in line,
A promise of harvest in due time.
Seeds are sown with hopes held high,
In the depth of winter, beneath the sky,
With every prayer and patient toil,
They nurture the land, rich in soil.
Cows in barns and sheep in pens,
The farmer's life, through trials and bends,
They tend to livestock, their gentle care,
For a bountiful season, they prepare.
Beneath the pale sun's weak embrace,
The barns and fields find their place,
January's work, a humble start,
In the farmer's rhythm, a work of heart.
For in the cycle of seasons, we see,
Farming's gift, a vital decree,
January's promise, the first of many,
A year of abundance, for which we're ready.
© DMN 2023
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