Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Planting Time: An Ozarks Spring (A Sonnet)

'Tis Spring, and dogwood days are finally here
When sunlight drips into the shady hollow,
And sweat runs underneath the farmer's collar;
Then, while young rascals fret with mortal fear
That rain will make the sunlight disappear
They try to flee their elders' looks askance
The which they know could snare them with a glance
To digging in the beds. A strange idea!

But though the days of Spring are heavy-laden
With unrewarding, long-abiding toil,
Still children in the streams are gaily wading
And skinny-dipping in the muddy pool.
And who would want, until the lights are fading,
To go a-digging taters in the soil?

No comments:

Post a Comment