Up Early Picking Peaches From His Tree
Up Early Picking Peaches From His Tree
Eyes golden zenith holds mysteries galore
like a blue streak feeds itself doubly blind
in its wakings an old barn without doors
the farm animals simply do not mind.
Nobody saw, for sure nobody cares
The farmer milks the cows so thirsty is he
Digging for gold he does not ever dare
Up early picking peaches from his tree
Wife a lovely maiden, her love she shares
Farm is not much, twenty acres and a mule
Envy no, he thinks they do not compare
Beside he has a pretty daughter so like a jewel
Nothing like rich man's iron gate horse farm
Farmer lives simply does nobody harm.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Aug 11th, 1971
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