The Prairie Farmer

Summer is over and the farmer now rests from his toil, Having labored hard to wrest his crops from the fruitful soil. Fall has arrived and all the crops have been gathered in. The corn, wheat and soy beans lie dormant in the granary bin. It was a good year - his farm was favored with abundant rain. Thankfully, there was no wind or hail, an anxious farmers' bane! Pecks of onions, pertaters and carrots are preserved in the cellar, Along with bushels of resplendent apples - golden, red and yeller! The hogs are ready for market but he'll keep a pair for meat, And he'll butcher a steer or so to ensure there's enough to eat. His wife jammed mason jars full of beets, termaters and peas, And there are a few honeycombs filched from the gullible bees! He and the boys used crosscut saws to hew cords of wood for heating, To warm their Victorian home from the winter's snows and sleeting. There are jugs of cider to sip and ears of popping corn to pop, As the family enjoys a roaring fire to reminisce with lore to swap! The humble farmer was so grateful that on his knees he knelt, To offer his gratitude to the Lord, a simple prayer most heartfelt. A benevolent harvest moon smiled on the pastoral scene below, Seemingly to bless the peaceful panorama with its mellow glow!