In days of old, when winter's chill did reign,
Meat was a luxury, scarce and plain.
The frozen fields lay barren, void of life,
Leaving hunger pangs to plague our strife.
But fear not, for in those frozen lands,
There were still ways to feed our hands.
We turned to fields of grain and green,
Where other forms of sustenance were seen.
The wheat and oats we harvested with care,
Baked into bread, our bellies could bear.
And from the gardens, vegetables galore,
Stews and soups we made, and more.
In winter's grip, we found a way,
To survive each day, come what may.
For though meat was a rarity,
Our resourcefulness kept us in unity.
So let us cherish these fields of gold,
That give us life, both young and old.
For in their bounty, we find a way,
To thrive, even in winter's gray.