The Soul of a Farmer
You worked for the love
of the life of a farmer,
God gave you the gift
of growing the seed.
And you never failed him
through all the devil could send you;
the hail, the wind and the weed.
You quietly fought the good fight;
for your kind are fading away
in the dust in the lane,
and you knew it,
knew it would die with you,
'cause none of your sons
had farm blood in their veins.
For the colour of green
was too much a temptation
and the fast life
beckoned them to come and stay.
And you wept
in the night
so no one could hear you,
for yourself,
and for your father before.
For the dream of the farm
and the sweat and the tears;
for there would be nothing left but the
lore?
but I know,
that God
helped you with two hands to heaven
for the soul
of the farmer
comes back as the earth.
(C) Copyright 2001
Deborah L. MacDonald-Beauchamp
All Rights Reserved
