People Of The Earth Poem by Eric Paeplow

The skyline cast in shadows, as the dark clouds lay
As if a blanket, covering the sky with its cold embrace
Waiting through these darkened days, until the first rays of sunlight shown
Waiting for the smell of spring, its crisp air, perfumed with clover.

As the frost melts away, leaving its ghost behind
The mud lay thick, dark, and smelling of musk and wine
After a long winters rest, it's back to work, to toil in the soil
To plow the fields and plant the next harvest in the fresh topsoil.

Straining muscles and aching backs, the daily norm
Working, straining, from daybreak to sunset, sunshine, or storm
The daily chores ever present, the race, never ending
To grow and gather, to can and jar, with fall soon pending.

All this work, all these chores, so much to do, in such a short time
Such is the life of the people of the earth, their daily play, sublime
Waiting through winters cold embrace, for springs, warm sunny days
To toil and work, to fill their stores, and ready themselves,
Yet again, for winters cold embrace