FARMFIELD Part three

Farmfield treasured troves,patience of the harvest season.Now,hanker your optimism and rig its buffer till showers above with the whole shebang of watercourses,to swarm honeycombs,your planet,voila pants for this ointment,you watchman.Squirm Squirels,squeal on trees,squawk in their contest for flight of the goldenfleece,behold?Same with jetsams and squires,burrowing beneath farmfield,like nature's rodeo,it dawns!And dislodge this stale,rollicked for rocky mound.Rile on your fortitude of risible outrange,that you may evade.None rickety palms,this pedagogical riffle,risibility is the ballistics of esteem mongering,ribbed of its voluptuous ribbon of immanent rift and revulsion,in its season titivates impending harvest.Patience then as wizardry to your elbow greased and chaste to your bonemarrow and for mothernature,haste for harvest,in its season-winter,autumn,spring and summer shall not cease,the dearth of the harvest is not a mirage but the dearth of watchmen of the nefarious tides to be fought on seas.