The Farm Woman



Woman of the Earth,
you are loved.
You gather the fruits
of your labors to your bosom
and feed the children.

You’ve inched your way
along the dusty path
with back bent in great fatigue
and cultivated the rows
yielding wise fruit.

You would feed out of your mouth,
those you think hungry
and then beyond measure.
The fruits are the heart
of your labors, the harvest of
your mind’s philosophy,
spilling indiscriminately.

Who is left to feed you, farm woman?
What commissary is left open
to feed your hungry soul after hours?
What bookstall will house the words
between stiff covers
to increase your harvest?

Labor, till the sun
closes its blinds on the day.
Restless legs will
speed you through the night

to find the bins ever full.

9 responses to “The Farm Woman”

  1. Veronica – This poem is a beautiful self-portrait and the wall hanging is a true piece of art. Your work touches the heart.

  2. ahhh John, we who love our Earth are all farmers at heart. Let us all take care of her and feed the children no matter their ages.

  3. Terri, If my words touch your heart, you in turn will do the same with your words. It is a universal good we seek. Thank you for responding.

  4. What a great recognition of how God continually replenishes us.I love the coziness of your wall hanging.

  5. I love the wall hanging. It is so appropriate to this poem. After planting my garden all this week, I enjoyed this poem in particular. It is so satisfying to dig in the dirt.

  6. Claudia, It is a recognition of how we are replenished. By various ways and means and Sources.

  7. Sally, I think we are all Farm Women. If we could and there was a way, we would feed the world, not only their bodies but their minds also.

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