Poetry

He's tilled his soil through Spring
the farmer works really hard,
his horse works hard too
Winter snow, kept them on guard.

They waited all Winter
for the snow to melt,
so they could play in the dirt
the cold, they have felt.

The plough sits ready
to be hooked up to the horse,
there is more tilling to do
the farmer knows this, of course.

His rows are ready
to be planted with seeds,
planning for the Winter to come
the job is non-stop, yes indeed.

He waters his gardens
waiting for his crops to grow,
the Summer sun bakes the seeds
row after gently looked after row.


The farmer works hard every day
bringing in his harvest,
potatoes, cucumbers, onions
but the strawberries, are the best.

Copyright ©Cynthia Jones
Dec.17/2011