Life on the Land

Work hard all day, tilling the land,

To raise the crops that we had planned.

Weeks without rain, was cause for alarm,

Nothing came easy, back on the farm.

Eventually the seeds got planted and grew,

But it sure wasn’t easy – I’m telling you.

Twelve hours a day, sometimes the whole night,

But such is the way of a farmer’s plight.

Your temper is always on a short tether

Either cussing or else – praising the weather.

Too much sun, or too much rain,

At times it becomes a real heavy strain.

Then comes the harvest – it’s work without stop,

But you’re satisfied, with a half decent crop.

Prices are down a little this year,

With luck you end up a little bit in the clear.

A whole year of fighting the highs and the lows,

A farmer’s lot – that’s the way it goes.

You never go under, or over the top,

Come spring you get ready, for another crop.

By Charles F. Cutler