How Fine Life Is To Man, When His Crops Are All Green
How Fine Life Is To man, When His Crops Are All Green
Yesteryear, I saw grapes hanging heavy on the vines
Such bounty was not all, bright where the windy pines.
Green the grass grew, fodder for all of mankind,
How I wish I knew, that righteous path to again find.
Beyond that past scene, rests solace in future hope
Life soft and less mean, no bad seen in my horoscope.
Another Spring giving joy, gentle winds in my sail,
Happiness for my little boy, treasures he can retell.
With that thought, I can find another gentle peace!
Today my heart raced on again, into its new scene.
How fine life is to man, when his crops are all green.
Music reaches into his heart, dancing into his soul.
He rises in joy's restart, entering his blessed new role.
With that thought, I can find another sweet release!
Robert J. Lindley, 3-22-2016
My new sonnet form.
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