In the interest of honest confession, I had to go back and make a (very slight) revision (of just the last word):

Nibbling at one cheerful word or kind caress,
Love proves itself a hearty soul in famine.

Lying in a cleft of warm, moist sod,
Seeds ask just one day to germinate.

Clutching a hurried mumble of affirmation,
A child runs off, sustained by joy.

God who works with little things,
Shake from my hands my stash of Chiclets.

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