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
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