Rhythmic Stories April 1, 2021

The Ploughs in the Field

The man puts his hand to the plough

He’ll make a living somehow

His family depends on him

Every season 

                            to season

The man puts his hand to the plough

His shoulders  

                         hung low now

Somehow he’ll find the strength

To go the extra length

The season came on quick

It takes determination 

                                      to stick

Monotonous row after row

At least it’s better than a hoe

His crops won’t come in late

If the elements cooperate

Year after year 

                       the crop gave its yield

Now the ploughs rusting in the field

Time passed and left its mark

        Invention went and found a spark

 Now no man puts his hand to the plough

As the ploughs rust in the field with the cow

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