Indiana soil a brown and dry field
my son put pumpkin seeds in my hand
and with prayers for a bountiful yield
I walked down the rows he had planned
and he stood with some pride on his land
we pushed a seed in earth every three feet
I dreamed I helped him with something grand
enormous pumpkins no one could beat

Theme: ‘Seeds’ ~ literal seeds, figurative seeds, seeds of love, hope, fear, war… you choose!

• Form:‘Huitain’
  • One 8-line stanza;
  • Rhyming: ababbcbc; 
  • Syllabic: 8 or 10 syllables per line.

W3 Prompt #166: Wea’ve Written Weekly