There Is a Pleading
For generations,
Their expected harvest
Has decreased in value and worth.
The advice given was not acceptible.
Experts could not convince them...
Methods outdated
Were deflating any interest in their purpose.
But still they could not believe...
Beautiful flowers
Can not grow amongst
The nurturing of weeds.
And methods their grandparents used,
Had long been mothballed!
And still there is a pleading,
To have more meetings
To find ways 'they' accept...
To save crops 'they' say are precious!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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