![]() ![]() ![]() The weather is turning, and the farmers are praised, for all the crops they've worked to raise Leaves in warm shades, people in warm clothes, animals in warm coats #I think love is a touch and yet not a touch fullI am.Īfter a long summer, what do the crops anticipate more than anything?Īfter you've planted a seed, watered it and gave it nutrients, what is the last thing you need to give it?Ī full moon's harvest, just when the weather turns cold In your glass the water lacks a hue, but in vast amounts, I appear. In irises of both kind I am seen, yet some eyes can't perceive my sheen. Birds and bugs display me well, but I rarely grace a mammal's pelt. ![]() In nature I'm a rare sight indeed, though one look up is all you need. The fox cheers her on, eye filled with awe, applauding each hit with a delighted 'Aha!' She's daring! Bashful! Gracious! Her training is ever. Before they seed, when just a flower, what color is a dandelion?Īnd doesn't end until I'm down once again What is the color is his handsome crest?Īdventure-tales can be a relief to get through: what colour paints the surface beneath fluttering sails?Īeolin’s breeze blows dandelion seeds, all throughout the hills. The first meeting, gruff, but a welcome sight to confused eyes.Ī traveler's knapsack, destination unknown.Ī creature crows in the morning to wake you from rest. Sick with envy or down with the flu, my cheeks turn what dreadful hue?Ī cobblestone path, worn from years of use. The work is hard, but they won't delay! What keeps them going and refrain from their play?Ī carpet rich beneath your feet, a meal for the herd to eat, and in me hide the clovers sweet. They rest to their fill - before farming must be done! They get up from slumber, awake from their nap. What color am I unground?Ī calm grassy hill, sun shines from above. Planted in patches in more rows than three.Ī bushel of me is a bushel to eat. It won'tīe forgotten, though just a scar remains.Ī budding rose and twisting leaves. Take your chance if you are near, but bring a turnip or don'tĪ bond deep and strong, carried through the veins. What am I?Ī little building full of lights, many sparks, what a fright! Both feeding and feasting on the flora in rows. Tending to the farm work, but no hoe or hose. Traveling, traveling, busy in the air, bustling, bustling, to the fields for which we care. What do an ox, a rat, and a human all have in common? As the blue, cloudless haze dons its silk black gown, Boundless cosmos shine their light down. Which am I?Ībove heads of tranquil dreamers, invisible at dawn, Far-off, faint and feeble, from the sun, they stay withdrawn. You cannot kill the brave one, who fights like dawn is near. Or drive the cold deeper into your bones.Ī battle on the horizon, a soldier stands steadfast with her spear. I can disappear or appear where I please but a swirl of destruction is left behind me. Or peep me at the end of a chameleon tail, Lest their future together is what you wish to betray. Is sabotage that world-hoppers shouldn't downplay, ""If you love them, let them go,"" they say,īut to do so without letting their feelings convey Sweet when underneath the ground, bitter up on top, when the music starts to pound, you can let me drop Beware of falling into me, you my catch a cold. ![]() When the sun arrives, I try to join in the sky. ![]()
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