Wheat and Weeds

By Lauren Ross
There once was a young man
Who inherited farmland
555 acres wide open
For him and his family to plant hope in
With no wisdom in farming
The task seemed slightly alarming
But in October the soil beds were prepared with diligent speed  
As he planted wheat fields of quality seed
The seeds went into winter slumber
Not to be harvested till the summer
The spring arrived just on time
It is harvest time the farmer chimed
The farmer surveyed his land
But the weeds seemed out of hand
Starting to dig up the seed the farmer frantically thought I need a new plan
Until walking up the road he spotted an older man
My dear boy what are you doing to your seeds
I’m digging it up due to the weeds
The old man took off his hat and began to laugh with joy
My dear boy the weeds are only a ploy
The harvest was designed for you
Go home and let your mind begin anew
The farmer tossed and turned that night
Until waking to the suns bright light
As he looked outside
Fields of gold ran far and wide
Jumping for joy he wanted to thank the older man
So into town he ran
No one knew the older man
The farmer could not believe this grand plan
Never again was the farmer concerned with the weeds
Because he knew he was the one with the good quality seeds