(FOR DAWN LINDSEY)
“Hope sustains the farmer.”—Latin proverb
Okra leaves shiver, droplets shake and slice
Dawn’s light, and swelling clouds explode and rise.
A garden ghost, a red tail deer, blinks twice,
Takes flight, and lights beside his favored prize.
Daylight will drive the stag to woods and shade.
Australian shepherd snorts; hare darts for shrub,
And knocks Fiachre up against the spade:
His broken stature splays across the mud.
Femina picks the shards from earth beneath
The plants, when then she sees the truth:
Fiachre’s body hangs below a wreath
of Litchi thorn like Christ, the sweetest fruit!
She then retrieves the broken One and sees:
With eyes shut tight, she falls upon her knees.
DB Lindsey JR
@ 11 August 2011
6 thoughts on “Femina Agricolae”
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Thank you, and thanks for visiting. Happy Thanksgiving!
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Blessings & peace,
This poem is about me! Farmer Dawn! Wish I looked like the girl in the picture. Can’t see her face but I can tell she’s thin! I’ll see if I can dig up a picture for hubby.