I have been on this farm from boy to man,
I worked so hard without much of a plan.
It was my father’s farm but he grew old,
He was put in a home out of the cold.
I’ve been too long in the hot Sun
My mouth is dry, I think I’m done.
I can’t move my left arm or speak,
My left leg is paralysed and weak.
I haven’t been able to move for hours,
I was out harvesting cauliflowers,
This old farmstead and the rough dirt track,
They gave me life and they took my life back.
I’ve been too long in the hot Sun
My mouth is dry, I think I’m done.
I can’t move my left arm or speak,
My left leg is paralysed and weak.
I’ll rest here awhile I may be alright,
The sun will go and soon it will be night.
There’s my son riding over the hill,
This old farm will be his left in my will.
I’ve been too long in the hot Sun
My mouth is dry, I think I’m done.
I can’t move my left arm or speak,
My left leg is paralysed and weak.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: June 3rd, 2025 00:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: arqios
Offline)
Comments4
Thank you for an interesting and enjoyable read and brightening up my day
Thank you compadre.Glad you liked it
You are very welcome
This speaks not only to the condition of the man but his nature and a lifestyle. This is from a past era when people worked from birth till death and passed things down. Not only a dying man but a dying way of life and a dying trait. Very nice David
Thank you for your wise insight compadre. You are right I picture this poem in the 1800's 'My great great great grandfather died on the farm I can only guess it was Sun stroke.Your comments are always appreciated
Superbly moving! 🙏🏻🕊
Thank you it was based on a true story.Thanks for commenting
That was the feel of it. Most welcome 🕊️🙏🏻
Excellent write David
Thank you
You're welcome
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