Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Before you get married, my child
There are a few things you should remember
The most important being
To always tend to your farm

You should look for a tool
That makes you sing for all its worth
That doesn't break when the ground goes hard
And is as light as if it were part of your hand

Be careful not to pick
A useless for its beauty
Or a worthless one out of pity
For it's the sharpest you'll need
To cut through the weeds of life

Beware, my child, of over-friendly neighbours 
For their shoes are laced with weeds
And their tongues are laced with lies
Which will sprout in your farm 
And bring you much harm

They will try to rob you of your chosen tool
With the allure of grease and oil
Be ready to fight their deceitful charms, my young
And keep your tool steadily at your side

A time may come
When the rains refuse to fall
And the sun blasts you with all its got
For even the skies will envy your work
And wish to dampen your hope with rust

Have patience, my lovely one
If drought takes root in your life
And use your spit if you have to
Nothing is forever
At the end of day, night surely comes

Pray that your soil is always fertile
So that many good crops you may grow 
Make sure to sing their praises for all to hear
How greatly this child of mine has been blessed 

Take good care of your tool
And learn to work with it side by side
Polish it every night
Clean it when it gets grime

Be cautious, my little
Working in the farm takes a toll on your body
It will leave you with scars from moiling and toiling
Open your heart and let it take freely
Till you're sapped dry and it's healthy and breathing 

When you get married, my child
Your farm becomes your life
Guard it with all you have
And the tool you choose
With every fibre in your being

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