By Morning Light


By morning's light, a farmer's plight, work before the dawn.

A coffee cup, filled plum up, dew is on the lawn.

A rooster shouts, the dogs they bout, a cat lets out a yawn.

A pair of gloves, an old straw hat, path down by the barn.

The day will start, where last one will end, clock is not needed,

hands left to spin.

2/16/2014 8:12:21 AM

John, great poem. It captures the life of the farmer amazingly well. Having experienced all of those things you skillfully placed in the poem jogged many memories of my country living season of life. I am naturally a morning person and usually wake up without assistance before the sun comes up. It's great to be outside in the cool of the summer morning watching the world come to life, don't you think? After being cooped up all Winter my desire is to be outside watching the sun rise with Folger's in my cup. Spring is my favorite season. Have a great Morning Light day.

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