formed of elements
found in dirt
humble dust
on torn tee shirt
patient farmer
works fertile soil
all year harvesting
hope for toil
plant every spring,
gather in fall
watch crops grow
green, all stand tall
by sweat of brow
coax life from sod
till soul returns
to soil’s God.
We’re playing in the dirt with Bjorn for dVerse poetics this week…
a poem in my pocket 
May 13, 2017 @ 13:42:03
Lovely, the rhythm bring the action of growing alive.
May 13, 2017 @ 16:08:50
Thank you, Mary!
May 12, 2017 @ 09:59:32
Nice rhyme and meter.
May 11, 2017 @ 23:08:41
Indeed, it all goes back to those roots of ours.
May 11, 2017 @ 12:56:36
Such a perfect tribute to the farmer, the heart of our community. I love the ending.