AUGUST DAYS
The crickets are noisy as I lay down my head,
But I won’t get much rest in this hot, humid bed.
Today’s sun beat down on meadow and field,
But I dare not neglect this grain crop soon to yield.
My horse-team worked hard to finish it all,
And I thought a few times they might flounder and fall,
But we sweated it out ‘til ..noon..’s dinner bell,
And I knew we must finish ‘cause ya never can tell
When rain clouds might gather, and have a cloud burst,
Ruin the grain, tho’ it might quench my thirst.
Ma brought out some lunch, and we sat in the shade
Wolfin’ down sandwiches she had fresh made.
A slight breeze swept thru’ as we sat ‘neath that tree
Watching grasshoppers fly high, and soar free.
And I saw God’s creations in life all around
Just sittin’ there restin’ on that dusty ground,
And tho’ it was hot, and not fit for mankind
On this August day bustin’ my poor behind,
I got down on my knees, no I didn’t forget
Tho’ still hot and sticky, covered with sweat,
And I thanked the dear Lord for His grace, and His love,
Knowin’ He sees me from His place up above.
Yep, some months ol’ Sol makes life really hot,
But I know who to thank for the blessin’s I got.
Tamara Hillman
©2009
© Poets retain copyright to their work; obtain a poet's
permission before using a poem in any form.
WRITE TO TAMARA: westernpoetess@yahoo.com
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