I scanned the state for amber waves of grain
But all I saw was verdant fields of corn
The road was long, but I could not complain
It seemed like this was where deep green was born
The birth and growth of food to feed the world
Is like a shining sea, within my land
The leaves and stalks are living flags, unfurled
The fill the artist’s eyes and farmer’s hand
I know the purple mountains lie ahead
Beneath the spacious skies, where beauty reigns
For now I’ll stick with Iowa, instead
And write about her wide and fruited plains
I scanned the state and marveled at her charm
Much more than just a road, a field, or farm.

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