Seeding Poetry

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It’s a Bourgot, well whaddya know?

9000 acres yet to go…seeding whoa!

Got half done and the rain came down.

 

Standing in the sun’s half light.

Supper at dusk, seeding half the night.

Driving through the dust, it’s gotta go!

 

Night shift is when the wrecks come.

They sure ain’t a lot of fun, son.

It’s a Bourgot, well whaddya know?

 

Doing some slant poetry for Meeting At The Bar.  Because I missed Poetics, “It’s Quoteable” with Mary I have submitted a late one below.

 

This is one of my husband’s favorite farming songs, by a Canadian band:

 

Thank you Lord, for the blessings in our lives.

For those things which You bless us richly.

That we do not deserve, nor are worthy of.

 

Thank you Lord, for the blessings in our lives.

Those things which make us stronger, better.

That which gives us character and scars too.

 

Thank you Lord, for the blessings in our lives.

Those things which we worry about, and pass us by.

Those things which never pass, and leave us in peace.

 

Thank you Lord, for the life and the way of life.

The land, the animals and our family together.

Those things which witness to Your greatness.

 

This is part of our family, poeticized and lengthened. Enjoy!

 

And my quote, from that song,

Thank you lord for the sun
For giving life to the seeds I sow
It’s the only life I know
Thanks again for the rain
For giving hope to the work I do



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Call her Willow

I

If I was to be a tree,

What tree would I be?

So many to find. To see.

 

A stately pine.

Would be so fine.

Green all the time.

….

what I really want to say is…

If a tree is what I had to be.

Then a willow would be me.

….

II

Willow, spirit tree. Woman tree.

Bitter bark that eases pain.

Silvery leaves a dancing shade.

She bends in strong winds.

Breaking only builds her up.

Roots reaching to water.

Holding on to life held dear.

Each fallen branch grows tall.

Willow family a rainbow!

Red, scrub, silver and more.

Willow shades and shelters.

Willow dances in a storm.

Growing in drought and flood.

She keeps rooted deep. Steady.

If I am not a willow then maybe

may faith can be like a willow.

Strong and flexible. Healing.

Able to grow in adversity.

Sheltering. Strongly caring.

Rest here. I’ll shade you.

Cover you. Feed you.

Shining a shimmery bright

a faith light maybe to see?

No city on a hill, but in a

forest of darkness some light.

Reflecting Light. Reaching

deep roots down to Holy

Water and drinking deep.

Staying strong. Resting.

Bending and in the places

where breaks come being

stronger there. Stronger.

Faith like a willow!

 

Abhra has us considering not just the noble tree but actually poetically seeing ourselves as trees.  I have no trees out my window today at work but I know they are there. And I love them all!  Come by dVerse and share your thoughts, poetry and love with those other poets who are so bravely and wonderfully sharing their words with us!