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.