plOT
Soil and dirt between my hands
Forever there, like shifting sands
Crumbling dust that falls away while planting in the dark red clay
In the sky they circle round and watch with interest what’s on the ground
Breathing in the cool dusk air the shovels rhythm with a swish,
turns clods over to release,
earths sweet scent to all who wish,
To feel the centuries stretched in time where men before have toiled in line,
in furrowed earth with furrowed brows , before the sun their heads are bowed.
My hands again in dampened soil
Connecting with a lifetimes toil
Think, To the earth we all are bound as we all end up in the ground.
But satisfaction crosses me as standing up and sipping tea
Newly dug with no more weeds
I can sow my winter seed.
Hands now cold , soil engrained into my hands now black and stained
I walk slowly up the hill, suns low rays are with me still.
The fire it greets with warming flame
I rest my weary bones again
As in the dark the seeds they wait
For spring and warmth for them to wake.
To burst forth like a carefree child
The soil reborn will spring up wild
Relinquished bounty, food and manna
To feed my soul and bodies clamour
12/10/2021. 17:45-18:25
Stephen Gospage
Wed 13th Oct 2021 17:48
Great work, Pete.