Otis Corley's Foible

Oh hail the common man! He’s something of a novelty. Never has he asked for much. Some people call him Hillbilly. Watch, remember, celebrate His coveralls are washed in lye Then pinned upon a line to dry. From rural soil his children sprout. They’re raised on beans and sauerkraut. Warp, weft, seam and weave All for peace and love proclaim, Have mercy on a peaceful man! Of simple means and meager lot, He rides with sure and even trot. Canter, gallop, ambling gait Though others fail, he finds no fault, Endures his fate and woes begot. His portion is at nature’s whim. Long days are spent behind his team. Summer, fall, wind and rain He plows his fields in furrows deep And plants his yams deliberately. Then digs the yield with hoe and spade To pace the sun in senseless race. Winnow, thresh and sow the seed Next year will bring a better yield. He keeps his garden neatly tilled. He bows his chest in hopeful gain, Then hangs his head and prays for rain. Struggle, plan, hope and dream