He wakes at the crack of dawn
his trusted beast knows its time
time to toil under the sun
to heave and pull
to weave and pant
the whip cracks and the sun burns
the whip cracks and the plough churns
it churns the soil on and on
on and on and on it goes
his feet sank and his sweat rank
Now the deluge came and the seeds grinned
the branches budded and the fruits ripened
the hands grabbed and the hands pulled
the teeth, sank and the teeth ground
juice erupting and exploding
tentacles teasing the taste buds
the man reminiscing the sun and heat
beast and plough, whip and soil
all the time thinking….
after the ploughing comes the harvest
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