Time to Sell
The sun roused me from my bed
when his warm rays reached my head.
I missed the fog that flowed in the dark,
but I made a fire burn with just a spark
to warm cow's milk for my child
on this mild March morn in the wild.
There's a dead elm to chop for wood.
My axe is sharp and will cut real good.
I have to stack all the logs near the door
cuz I know in the night I will need more.
The chill in my home gets much too cold.
Cracks need to be fixed, so I've been told,
but that's not a job that I can do
for I don't have the skills. Not a clue.
I will hire a hand who will get the chore done
and then on he will go to the next one.
He can do all the work while I sit for a spell
and say at last, "I think it's time to sell!"
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
