The blithe farmer…
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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