Harvest of Wisdom

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