{"id":101431,"date":"2021-06-27T07:10:30","date_gmt":"2021-06-27T11:10:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=101431"},"modified":"2021-06-27T07:10:30","modified_gmt":"2021-06-27T11:10:30","slug":"golden-wheat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/golden-wheat\/","title":{"rendered":"Golden Wheat"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Gazing up up<br \/>\nat the grains above me<br \/>\nI know it&#8217;s  crop<br \/>\njust like they bring to<br \/>\nThe elevator<br \/>\nDelicious grains<br \/>\nMy favorite ones<br \/>\nWhen the truck&#8217;s come<br \/>\nWe&#8217;d put our hands out<br \/>\nWhen they opened the sluice gate<br \/>\nTo the back of the truck<br \/>\nAnd slant it backwards<br \/>\nTo dispose of their golden wheat<br \/>\nbarley was good too<br \/>\n(but rye was YUCK)<br \/>\nIt was as yummy as candy<br \/>\nI&#8217;d hold my skirt out and fill my apron up<br \/>\nRun away from my brother and steal my own weight<br \/>\nIn the farmer&#8217;s crop<br \/>\nMy dad would laugh<br \/>\nThe farmer had already been paid<br \/>\nMy dad ran the elevator<br \/>\nIt was only the cartel who lost<br \/>\nA child&#8217;s apron of grain<br \/>\nIf I was wearing a bonnet,<br \/>\nI&#8217;d fill that first<br \/>\nLike a greedy mouse<br \/>\nI&#8217;d scamper off with my hoard<br \/>\nChewing and chomping<br \/>\nSeeds fresh from the stems<br \/>\nSoft and still green<br \/>\nIt was a little taste of heaven<\/p>\n<p>Watching the stalks<br \/>\nOf gold wheat overhead<br \/>\nThey&#8217;re ready for harvest<br \/>\nI doubt anyone still has as much fun<br \/>\nNow with the grain coming in<br \/>\nAs I once did<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Gazing up up at the grains above me I know it&#8217;s crop just like they bring to The elevator Delicious grains My favorite ones When the truck&#8217;s come We&#8217;d put our hands out When they opened the sluice gate To the back of the truck&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,1136,441,5],"tags":[4822,4820,4819,684,4700,4821,52,4818],"class_list":["post-101431","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-official-marathon-prompts","category-poetry-prompt-responses","category-poetry-prompts","tag-arrowwood-pioneer-elevator","tag-canadian-grain-elevator-memories","tag-canadian-wheat","tag-childhood","tag-childhood-poems","tag-pioneer-elevators","tag-virginia-carraway-stark","tag-wheatboard-of-canada"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/101431","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=101431"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/101431\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":102274,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/101431\/revisions\/102274"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=101431"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=101431"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=101431"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}