Dear Farmer

Dear Farmer

My handy man with a sense of humus

Pursuing the wisest profession

I sit here thinking of you

With my pen in my hand

Oh! The founder of human civilization

Have you ever rounded off your day

With this realization

and glory

There is as much dignity in tilling a field

As in writing a story.

When my plow is a pen, I seek to grow

The harvest absorbing, from the words that I sow

Oh! the eternal optimist, the farmer, my friend

Will you from your stockpile, some hope you lend?

You definitely are a better artist than me I dare say

The land most beautiful with yield you portray

Whether it is on the tractor or in the pasture with the cows

Just a bohemian spirit staying sunny some how

Your partnership with nature, the noblest of alchemy

First profession of man, ground for all other industries

When my pen tills the paper, I root, and I scratch

And I hope to your paddy gold, my words are a match!