Monday, September 6, 2010

The Sky Is Falling

My farmer friend is not like me
He is just as jumpy as a flea.
He rises at the crack of dawn
And does not even stop to yawn.

Each spring he is overcome with fear
That he won't have a crop this year.
He is sure that it will snow or rain
And there won't be time to plant his grain.
Then when it is harvest time next fall
He won't have any crop at all.

He wanders over to my place
A worried look upon his face.
He says it is going to some more,
Spring has never been this late before.

He starts pacing up and down
His brow all furrowed in a frown.
I tell him he should stop and sit
Then crack a joke so he will forget.

I say the sun will shine again
He looks at me and asks me, When?
That seems to me like asking men
Which came first, the egg or hen?

Only God knows that, you see
And that is good enough for me.
I wait for God and save my strength to
Give my life some added length.


Tom Hoy
Lethbridge



More Later....
G.

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