I've babied it,
And I've abused it.
I've ignored it,
And I've used it.
I've grazed it too short,
And I've grown it too tall.
Sometimes I wonder,
If I'm really a farmer at all...
I've loved it,
I've hated it.
I've sung to it,
And I've berated it.
I've spread compost,
And I've spread tea.
And sometimes I wonder,
Just what's the matter with me!
For I speak of no wonders;
No great treasures at hand.
All I speak of,
Is my beloved land.
2 comments:
Did you write this? Very good!
-Kelly Peters
Hi Kelly! Yep, this little ditty came to mind while I was outside spreading compost on my garden. LOL. I was so afraid that I would forget it that I plunked down right on the damp ground and scribbled it all in my notebook that I keep in my Carhartt pocket.
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