About these ads

The Farmer

With strength and courge

and a furrowed brow,

the old man picked up his rusty plow.

He walked out to the field

bent down, kneeled,

and prayed before begining.

He prayed for past days,

the ones withered away.

He prayed he was far from his dying day.

But once in the field,

he never did yield

to the task he was set to do.

Once he was done

in the blistering sun

and his shadow was long and thin,

he took back to his house

where he sat with a bottle of gin.

About these ads

3 responses to “The Farmer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,784 other followers

%d bloggers like this: