The blithe farmer…

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The poem shows less depth than it has... Please try to read through... 


Joe was a plowman
Who owned a dry land.
In a small village
The lone farming hand.

Other adjoining towns
And farms lying therein
Owned by ranchers
They were all akin.

They had sown seeds
All of them still naïve
Awaited the rain
Its absence made them rave.

Some of Joe’s kin
Prayed to the lord.
While some others planned
Well to their accord.

Joe, on the other hand
 Watered his land on time
Gave it its nourishment
And sung a funny rhyme.

One fancy evening
When he least suspected
It rained in his town
‘Voila!’, they interjected.

Happiness beyond happiness
Hugged him then
Overwhelmed by the success
He thanked the Heaven!






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