Make hay, while the summer sun shines,
Muscles get sore, bones are gonna grind.
Sunny, hot as hell, dusty and itchy too,
Gotta get r' done, gotta work through.
It takes a few days, if the weather doesnt fight,
To make the hay, to get it just right.
Cut, ted, bale, pickup the field,
Get it In the barn, then count your yield.
Hurry up, cant wait, its gonna rain,
Bust ass, otherwise, its all in vain.
Dont wanna mess it up, after all, at longlast,
The weather channel is not, the farmers forecast.
The sunsets in the field, but your not done,
Keep worken deep into the night, thats when it starts get n' fun,
Headlights, shadows, silohouettes, coyotos, and screach owls,
Truck and trailer, loud shouts, stop and go, swear words, lots of vowels.
When your all through, and you are done,
You worked hard together, making it family fun.
Some might not think so, but think back they will,
What a special time it was, memories it does fill.
Build character is does, mental and physical strength,
Im proud of my family, to no end, at long length.
I hope when Im old, and they tend to the fields,
They remember the old times, the next generation, the new yields.
D. Matthew Beebe
No comments:
Post a Comment