SONG OF THE MERRY FARMER

– spferdberg

O merry the farmer
Who never forgets,
What you take from the land
Is just temporarily yours.

He greets the old dog
Who sits on his steps,
For he too understands,
What’s given is given for good.

The clock on the shelf
Sings a salute
To the scars on his hands,
But the rhythm is peaceful at last.

Summer will come
On a horse that won’t kneel,
And the smallest of grains
Is delightful to hold in his hands.

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