The Simple Country Farmer Poem by cheryl davis miller

Down the road just a piece
lived a man and his wife.
Farming was his life choice
he'd done so all his life.

The son of a farmer
was the son of one too.
He'd had choices in life;
to farm he chose to do.

Bought land next to his Dad
then married his sweetheart.
Spent their lives together
they were seldom apart.

Each year I watched them tend
the same old piece of land.
They'd raise the best garden
without a helping hand.

They would plant it; tend it
and gather it all in.
Raised far more than enough
gave the excess to friends.

He in his broad straw hat
mud boots up to his knees.
Her in a cotten dress
gently waved in the breeze.

They would faithfully tend
their garden side by side.
Simple country farmer
and his sweet little bride.

I'd watch them and marvel
at their abilities.
I wondered why my garden
didn't blossom for me.

Had clumps big as melons
I would still try to hoe.
I'd water, weed and feed
my garden didn't grow.

With times passing I thought
'Just may as well give up.'
Then the country farmer
taught this poor country 'pup'.

Said, 'A lot of it, Sis
is soil's preparation.
The second part is the
heart's determination.

Put heart into the soil
it gives it's heart to you.
Takes time for hearts to grow
more than a year or two.

I listened and tried it
and much to my delight;
my garden responded
it's such a lovely sight.

Love will tend a garden
or the soil of a heart.
A heart that's determined;
is the first place to start.

c.d.m.6-11-10