My blood flows like a river
As I cut myself again
Upon the barbed fence that I fix
For the cows got out again
I chased them down
I put them back
Now the fence I fix
The sun is hot
My sweat flows
Like waves on the ocean
The sweat rolls
Still the fence I fix
Because a farmer I be
Even if the barbed wire makes me bleed
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Comments7
A farmer’s work is never done, they work so hard and there are dangers. Broken fences, a hazard they have to deal with. Your poem reminds me of walking down a country lane with my daughter only to face three cows coming from the opposite direction, who had escaped from a nearby field. Quite scary. Your poem triggered a memory. Have a nice day Tony.
Thank you
I feel your pain. I've been there and done that and bear the scars from the fence. Lovely
Thank you
One of the hardest professions in the world, Good read
Thank you
You are very welcome
A farmer is superior to an astronomer !
Thank you
Excellent.
Thank you
That's the life of a farmer. This could be taken as a metaphor.Cleverly done.
Thank you
Choices come with consequences, well said.
Thank you
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