Let the aches and pains
remind me of the contentment
I experience when
working with my hands.
Gentle wind in my face,
sun caressing my back,
sweat stinging my eyes
as I work upon the land.
The smell of exposed soil,
memories of spring plantings,
struggling to curb my excitement
in anticipating of plants to grow.
Whether orchard or garden,
I reflect upon Nature’s wonder.
Smiling at sacred mystery,
when seedlings push-up from below.
Reflecting on loving advice,
when using tools of my forefathers,
what some would call toil
has evolved into poetry.
As I labor in quiet enjoyment,
witnessed by cottontails,
blue jays and squirrels,
I hum a thankful melody.
Poem by Fred C Appelhanz
Fred C Appelhanz lives on 30 acres over looking a valley. He is consumed with the beauty and mystery of Nature and never tires of the quiet. Sitting in his tree swing provides many opportunities of surprises by deer, bobcat or wild turkey’s. This setting of natural beauty has become his refuge from society’s insanity.
Thank you very much Tiny Seed Journal for the opportunity to share one of my creations, again. The pictures you choose for the background are exceptional.