As I Walk Hard Narrow Path, Dust In My Mouth

As I Walk Hard Narrow Path, Dust In My Mouth I walk hard narrow path, dust in my mouth Just a poor farm-boy, born in the dear South, With edges slippery and turns so quick Oft so weary, too often so damn sick. Trudging on through, into midnight's dark cast Praying my courage will forever last, And in my dreams, I meet my angel here She of sweetest heart and devoid of fear. Each new sunset , I watch those red-burnt rays Muttering words, as only poor boy prays, In wind's soft blows, I hear, "patience rewards" Step thee lively, avoid the broken shards! I walk hard narrow path, dust in my mouth Just a poor farm-boy, born in the dear South. R.J. Lindley , July 11th, 1973 Sonnet, ( Working on the farm before sun-up until after sunset) Note: I decided this morn, to bring this one right on out of my private journal. Hope you may enjoy it, as I wrote it at age 19.. Any that worked on the farms in the 60-s, 70's, and 80's, will certainly get this..