The birds and the bees and Old McDonald’s Farm

Hour Eleven

Fields and fields, of grass, weeds, and dandelions.
Trees and trees, of needles, leaves, and boughs.
Flowers and flowers, of purple, blue, and pink.
Grass and grass, of shade, sun, and crabs.
Shrubs and shrugs, of boxwood, japonica, and holly.
Birds and birds, of starlings, titmouse, and robins.
Bees and bees, of bumble, wasp, and hornets.

Fruits and fruits, of berries, citrus, and tropical.
Veggies and veggies, of vines, root, and stalk.
Rows and rows, of canes, orchards, and bushes.
Farms and farms, of poultry, beef, and dairy.
Bales and bales, of straw, wheat, and cotton.
Barns and barns, of equine, bovine, and ovine.
Coups and coups, of fowl, mammals, and rodents.

Nature in all its variety, large and tall, colourful and soft, bushy and prickly, harmonious and chipper, whizzing and stinging, cuddly and cute. A planet of plenty, a world of wonder, a life worth living.

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