Poetry From The Heart
It’s a detached morning seeing cow’s walking to the barn
bucket handles dig into my cold fingers carrying the milk.
Early morning strides to milk enclosures leave me worn-out
speedy mornings, lack of time, hard work, and “no” playtime.
Nights I lean on prayer to get me through long hours
tons of work at the farm, no time for romantic evenings.
Starry-eyed instants loiter of a once ripened passionate love;
stolen by laborious seasons and desires to repose.
He’s my prince and I’m his princess in spite of toils
I see a glint in his eyes as we pass during our chores.
My heart skips a beat regardless of obstacles we face;
tender hands grip mine at night allows me to feel loved.
Hard work looted our energies, spinning our bodies into dullness;
age snuck in and stole our youth and left us idle and burnt out.
Time took its toll; it didn’t rob our love and desires though
our aspirations, strong as the day we said our vows.
Every day I look into his rugged face and adore him …
hard work never hurts a soul it made us appreciate each other.
Barbara Kasey Smith wrote this poem – Re-Write Copyright 2014 – Use by Permission Only.