Like others who can’t resist stuff:
Stamps, coins, books, paper weights, arrow heads, whatnot,
He is unstoppable.

His treasures are just a bit bigger, heavier, costly.
Born out of passion, the urge, the obsession,
He collects
Tractors.

Why not?

Left alone with his check book he would be the
Indisputable master of these farm behemoths.
His wallet would forget the closed position, as he added to
His inventory; seeking more power, more comfort, more innovation.

Oh, but he is more renaissance then one-sided in his desire to accumulate.
His yearnings extend to gathering
Chickens, tomatoes, and counting residential blue jays and cardinals.
With impeccable skill.
His preoccupation is to watch nature fill all its spaces.

But superior among his collections is his accumulation of historical facts.
Not miscellaneous or sundry, instead with precision, he documents the hamlet of Bramwell, West Virginia . It remains the home of his heart,
A place worthy of an epic, not a mere poem.
Every fact carefully selected, each life perfectly curated,
inventoried lovingly, displayed with distinction
For all the cyber world to see.

The masses are invited to take note of Tractor Man’s
Delight in his sense of place.
Framed, preserved and secured.
There is no vacuum in his world.

Charlene James-Duguid
Amissville, Virginia, March 11, 2016

And God said,
“Let there be goodness,
Let there be joy,
Let there be color, and sweetness.
Let there be

BEANS, JELLY BEANS.”

Standing, elbows akimbo, the little Bear was shocked.
“God naming one of his favorite creations after me
It cannot be.”
The Wizard, also akimboed, frowned in disbelief.
How and why had the Almighty chosen to
Dub Whizz’s favorite candy, with its delectable varieties,
After this silly apprentice, totally inept at magic,
The one who couldn’t even change
A mouse into a chicken.

How could God do this, and on a lovely Springing,
Singing April day no less.

They had always been friends, Wizard and God.
In the same business, so to speak, but now this sugary baptism
Irrevocably destroyed their relationship.

God and Wizard were at odds.

As they scowled, Kiwi Strawberry Smoothie, Sour Cherry, and
Perfectly Pear went rolling everywhere.
Oranges and Creme and Buttered Popcorn hid under the sofa.
Boysenberry and Tutti Frutti were deep in conversation.
Super Fruit Fusion and Very Blue found places to hide.

Whizz knew something had to be done, a truce must be struck.

‘Make you a deal, God, Old Boy.
You can name them BEANS, if I get an eternal supply. 

In return, I’ll flunk the Bear, 
make it impossible for him to use any magico–religious skills.

‘Hum. ‘
God now joined them akimbo.
He gave a nod.
Wizard gave a wink.
The Bear waved his wand that should have turned the field mouse into a Rhode Island Red but instead produced a giant Hubbard squash,

Beans, befuddle, watched as Wizard and God shook hands and evaporated into thin air, leaving a trio of Grommets singing a round for  

Universal Jelly Bean Day.