A Time to Rest

​A time for pause, a time to rest, 
the sowing done, you've done your best,
now weather is both friend and foe,
the Doppler watched to keep abreast

of coming thunderstorms, although 
it's early yet, the risk is low.
Equipment sits in wait, for now,
while shoots define each seeded row.

The pace of farming would allow
a single respite from the plow,
another year, another spring,
has etched your face from chin to brow.

The price that winter wheat will bring
affords you time to have your fling,
to go abroad, have fun, relax,
let nature do its April thing.

For May will come, and too, the tracks
of twisters, say the almanacs,
though none had ever hit your land,
you must rely on callow facts.

So take the trip you always planned,
regain the drive that you demand,
go view the world and know you're blessed
to live where generations spanned.

Published in "The Dilettante's Garden" and"Eloquence"
by Jack Huber- All rights reserved

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