Hitch the Old Mule and Load the Harvest Cart

Hitch The Old Mule And Load The Harvest Cart

Across the plains a bad ole murky mess
Unites in its quivering tears apart
And the bashful bride dares not that confess
As she knows for sure it would break his heart
Bloated bodies bend with such dusky chills
And the ill cast weather leaves what it starts
Grandpa cries, "Hon' bring me my little pills"
Hitch the old mule and load the harvest cart
Watch the red moon and its wide flaming rings
Crow knows the tiger will eat anything
And the fairies dance their proud lovers swing
While the farmer's wife wakes early to sing
Dawn rises and its glory proudly displays
Cheating gambler faces well-earned pay!

Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
May 12th 1972
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Poet Avatar
July 6, 2023 at 3:16 PM
With masterful artistry and captivating symbolism, this masterpiece unveils an idyllic tableau, evoking the essence of a bygone era. You skillfully resurrect the rustic charm of agrarian life, forever lost amidst the relentless advance of mechanization.
Andresen Avatar
July 6, 2023 at 8:48 AM
Life on the farm before machines took over... the good old days no longer exist - Although old barns made of wood, stone and turf still stand in Norway ... a great poem, Robert - hugs
Lindley Avatar
July 6, 2023 at 9:14 AM
Yes, my friend, some of the old things were better. Farm work is hard always has been but it made men out of boys. And if God was introduced you had a much better world. God bless....
Rodrigues Avatar
July 5, 2023 at 5:28 PM
A bucolic scene brought to life! Blessings, Robert!
Lindley Avatar
July 6, 2023 at 6:56 AM
Thank you, my good friend. I have absolutely no memory of why I wrote this back then! I was going to the bars a lot then and maybe this came to me in a dream. God bless. 5
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