Much spirit is mended seeing lands well tended since ancient time
Lines dividing fields drawn by hands steel-strong in ages when divine agents oversaw the raising of gargantuan henges
When crops failed, farmers grew vengeful
Reaving pale eel gatherers from their fens, blaming them for blighted stems which greeted picking men they had sent out.
Picking men wore bird masks and answered to redbreast robin
They bobbed as birds do fetching seeds or snatching threshed reeds to build breeding nests
They swore before John Barleycorn each dawn
Eked out his form along furrows
Facsimiled him with extravagant pies with half eggs for eyes
Steam would rise skyward from breached sides
All would take big slices such as sufficed them
Each a portion fit to his size
Parsnips and carrots dipped in bread sauce on the side
Such feasts as delight Gods, perhaps enough to entice the John Barleycorn, the field’s pride
To glide over elysian climes and bless sleeping stalks with enormous height overnight, as was described in antient time
When writing bodies of coupling young were a pleasant sight among lop-eared corn
Brazen goldenhead and upright maize major of the plots.
Even rocky outcrops where rocks jut up from thirsting sods, clods are broken by hearty roots, already sprouting yellow and green shots
All land is a body, one united oddity
It is obvious his life is made invisible by masking seas
If keys existed which drained all brine one would see the divine man plotted out like a ship’s course line
Chartreuse shot through with seafoam sage juniper snotgreen.
Alchemisland 
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