Song of the farmer’s heart

An interesting world—I was born in,
     The world of farms and plants, I live in.
Everyone's a farmer and usually an expert,
     Me learning the basics and the ways, they expect.
They say : great farmers need decent tools to reap with;
     But i've never had a great scythe to begin with.
Instead, a fertile farm i've been granted,
     A land everyone would love and want it.

All being said, crops i sow,
Blossom majestically! I wonder how.
     Elders cannot harvest crops, as marvelous as mine;
     Me? Am no match for their skill yet brightest i shine.
Flower petals, growing as vast as a sunflower's face,
Fruits juicy, and enjoyable to taste.
     Kinda know the secret but, i'm not sure...
     Maybe it's because, my heart is beautiful and pure.
My heart sings the melody of love—A rhyme, a song. Every and each pulse.
     Flowers blush by my touch,
     And dance to the song of my heart.
All this flower love feels like a wonderland,
and that is why they'll never understand,
  A farmer without love,
     Is a dark night and no stars,
        No moon to shine nor protect,
           No sun to end this terror aspect.
I watch my garden, my flowers so precious;
I'm left breathless, i felt the beauty of heavens.
     Sparkles i feel,
tickling my heart,
     a star shower,
in a spring night.
     Flowers and trees,
dancing in the soft breeze;
     i too dance in circles around me,
my dress twirls,
     i feel like a pinwheel,
moonlight a spotlight on me,
     while stars are smiling at me.