Bittersweet Harvest

I have been waiting patiently in all my glory. Growing, developing, hesitantly, telling my story.

All of my energies focused on experience and rebirth. Fertility, gestation, and my ample girth. 

It is the culmination of hard work, of sun and rain. Abundance concluded all in vain.

The nutrients strengthening my ver core. Gluttonous consumption, steady and sure.

Irrigation staves off parching drought. Gilded water cleanses me within and without.

Pollen will attract what chemicals repel. Production and creation yield a magic spell. 

The coming frost is evident, the wind whips overland. A deity initiates impending plans.

The Suns warm embrace fades to an amber hue. Shorter daylight hours and the skies crisp blue.

Nights grow colder as the reaping time grows near. No end and no beginning, a cylindrical sphere. 

Just when I am certain to be at my best, the hands of men come to me to pick and test. 

Machines come then leaving only hope as my salvation. Seed and soil to cultivate another generation. 

The essence of my memory instructs the next years crop. A Bittersweet Harvest that will never stop.

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