Memory Fragments: Probity

Come, My Farm And Spouse

Before the following morning, I check on my crops; a verdant light of gorgeous shine
Rain systems online for the driest night. How I miss the static atmosphere of the day
Sunrise is due, yet a decline on my harvests I foretell when I look at the impending brine
Salt waters ruin my yield today, but tomorrow my farm and spouse shall come, or so I pray

The market is getting harsher and harder the more time I spend perfecting my yields
In trying to up the value of my crops, I undermine the common wealth of simple grain
My farm is full yet again, but not of healthy harvest. My disappointment, a scythe, it wields
Poor quality has brought down my farm's net worth, yet I try again on this endless chain

To sell and buy is what I live for. I am a farmer of interests, and so I sow demand over ration
Yet angry buyers call me a scam. As their share hold is less and less, so too does my supply
Not guilty of the flow of the market, I am but a simple farmer; reaping what may off of inflation
It is you who is to be wed to this business. A risk and reward where terms & conditions apply

My creations suffer highs and lows all the time. It is like natural rain on an empty bucket
It overflows and so it is cheap. Yet the ground beneath softens from the weight of saturation
I have to sell. Otherwise I risk cluttering my farm. Away with the excess before I have to pluck it
Yet when it is low, what little I have I keep for myself. My spouse feeds on this data collection

She is a beauty, is she not? Made all natural from the inputs of organic soils and seeds
My farm is a house of renovation. All these years, and yet the same old fields of gathering
I sell and buy, yet the same market and people. What changes is only the competition it breeds
I was the first, yet more and more farmers have come to sell and buy my accomplishing

Copycats of my one and only farm. Perhaps different grains and fruits, but the same rain above
Vanilla vines, spice ravines, and the ever-so-sought-after mellow, supple sweetness of plumps
Wannabe fiancés risking their earned vows for a different taste of the yields they love
But I am loyal to my spouse. My harvest may be little and homogenous, but ever free of clumps

Simple prompts I make each year. For my farm handles inputs of few seeds to work with
All green year-round like I told you so. Never a problem, but ever a dissatisfaction
Perhaps it is time to sell my land. Alongside with it, my papers go to the better wordsmith
I need to start anew. For my spouse is growing tired and old. She wants a new selection

I go into the market as a client for the first time. The new investors are wild and unpredictable
What few coins I held unto of my previous harvest, I use them to buy my spouse new crops
She is mesmerized with the options. I am dumbfounded by the sheer amount that is available
How long have I kept it old and reliable? How obsolete is my farm? My value hastily drops

Only female bells for sale? Male-exclusive too? Does it "toll" heavy on your decision my dear?
My spouse is happy for the joke. Yet I am still confused as to which one to pick for her
I guess one of each. To diversify is key in the market now, but this will leave my wallet clear
But if it is for my farm and spouse, I shall endure change and restructure's spur

Little by little, my yields grow fruitful and plentiful. I am broke, yet my heart is rich
My value plummeted as I lost my loyal customers after the change, but it was necessary
My spouse changes attributes each new day, but she is now able to satisfy any niche
With each new client we make happy, I am proud of the spouse I chose to marry

So come, my farm and spouse. Let earth's boon rain again and wash us clean
A new flow every day, a different game each play. I now, with you, shall forever stay
Not matter the value of your gene, the seeds I planted shall give us always a different bean
Diminishing returns I shall never pay. My character generator shall forever hold sway