Below is the poem entitled Harvesting The Cash Crops which was written by poet
Fisher. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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For years and years and a few more years, it now seems clearer to me,
That we’ve lived well, in the nutshell of our small town obscurity.
Life has been grand, on two acres of land of which I can’t lament.
Though living tall, we’ve kept things small, even the way our money’s spent.
Back of my mind, I’ve been inclined to believe that saving is good,
And that posit, has led to deposits for as much as I could.
In each account, I put in amounts as if planting a garden,
Albeit these seeds, were green as weeds, but at least I was start’en.
Yes time has passed, three decades go fast, and I’ve watched that garden grow.
Although there were years, where only some tears, sprouted out of each row.
Whether sunny, though not very funny, often the plants wilted,
But anyways, I’d plant each day, now some of my crops are gilded.
Though currently, this economy’s, dire in our nook and cranny.
So much so, that I don’t know, if it’s worth getting off my fanny.
Pardon that line, but it kinda’ rhymed, and sometimes that’s how I roll.
But anyhow, I’m back here now; yes hardship has taken a toll.
New planting’s a joke, like I just spoke, since I have no new seeds at hand,
Now I’ll switch, and dig up each ditch, due to this ill-timed command.
So here I go, ready or no, harvesting long planted cash crops.
For as long, that thrift is wrong, and until things perk up I can’t stop.
Far from retiring, nor desiring, to pick these crops premature,
But there’s no choice, and we can’t rejoice, yet have hope for the future.
Thus I’ll pray, and wait for the day when our countries fiscally sound,
But have doubts, and crops may run out, before Reagan comes back around.