When the Lark Departs
Yellow
beams glistening
on close growing clover-
when the lark departs is summer
over?
Tedious toil from dawn to dark,a farmhands days then so harsh and stark.The
clockhands ticks round slowly by one by one,Pa's work ending with the setting
sun.Daybreak and sunset he milked the cows,in between with the horse and
plough.Across the fields a church bell peals recording his monotonous
ordeal.Each day to the beerhouse his footsteps led,then back to our cottage for
supper and bed.Us young'uns spent days gleaning the field,a years's bread
such toil could yield.Hedgerow sloes in the market sold, eked out the wage in our
household.Sister helped Ma with her local lace , round an open
fireplace.Ended her schooling afore her teens to enlist in the domestic service
scene.
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