Toiled he, on holey earth
Praying to the celestial powers
For sun and rain, be on schedule
Ploughed, harrowed and churned in puddle
Pouring enough, and a little more of
Physique's warm hearty sweat
Making ideal bed for his seeds of hope
To emerge, grow and start life anew
For the farmer to reap and carry in bagfuls
Feeding weeding and kneading
Dearly earth, so as babes grow
On stature, girth and amount profusely
Hopes grew vigorously, as sun shined
Blessings down poured and ambitions spilled over
Castles sprang up on visionary ground
Having filled with life-matter, sun gifted
Pregnant tillers were ever ready to deliver
It was a parade, of dames, lush and posh
Swinging in rhythm to the tune of rhyme
Panicles emerged, flowers opened, embryos formed
Grains filled, via milky and hard dough stages
They bent down and down for the weight
Sun shined bright, moon peeped right
Stars twinkled night, blessed farmer's might
Clad fully in gold, wearing pearls
All swung in lullaby tune, like pretty dolls
Oil lamp in farmer dwelling flickered attuned
Woman in hut offered her treat in icy moonlight
Reaped crop heaped up on floor
Threshed, cleaned and filled in sacks, bounty it seemed
Aghast roars of machines, lenders, hoarders and traders
Surrounded the floor, sublimed the crop to where ever due
Left the toiler besieged, bewildered and boomed
He let out, in a thumping sigh sky high, whole lot
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Whole lot! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.