The Cocks Crow
It’s hard labor working these fields
pulling potatoes from the dirt
ain’t no easy task
no quarter given
and none to ask
Irish, Asians
Africans, and Mexicans
we know our rows
and don long sleeves
scarves, hoods, and sombreros
cause this ain’t no time for tanning
this bent over heat
will grind you into the dirt
and leave you to the crows
but we walk home straight
when the suns ember smolders
wash off the dust
and laugh like a sinner
Mama brings strong drink
to spice up our dinner
and after pushing our children
in swings made of tires
we tuck them in
and tend to our fires
the men and women
loving hard and long
like the life they live
and a field picking song
then sleep through the night
till the crowing of the sun
and the rising of the cock
for to smile a new day
at the passion we have known
at the harvest we have reaped
and the seed we have sown.
![Hard labor: [poems]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/31BKSRET37L._SL160_.jpg)
Comments
AUTHORDeb, it probably explains your deep love for nature. thank you.
Been there and done that. You described it perfectly. We awoke every day with a smile on our faces, for then we knew that we accomplished something. We did what needed to be done.
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Thank you, Nell.
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Thank you very much Kim.
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Very true, Nellieanna. And Mother Nature will help the process, because she most certainly has a way of weeding out the weak.
My great great aunt worked out in the fields for a farmer back in late 1890s, and we grew up with the stories of the hard work, and toil, so this is wonderful!
So nice when one can capture a scene and give it the dignity it deserves.
Nicely done sir!
Wishing you a great weekend,
Kim
You've every reason to be proud of your family's endurance and fortitude. My parents set out with nothing in an earlier era and kept on keeping on to make a life for themselves in a harsh & rugged uncharted landscape. People in each of those circumstances just didn't let the challenges discourage or defeat them. I suppose there is still that kind of grit in action but it seems to be more and more rare. When it was a matter of living off the land, the challenges were clear & fit the circumstances. Now there are different kinds of challenges & seem less clear-cut; but unless the same kind of grit in meeting them is to be applied, there won't be the same triumphant results. Hope people can rise to the new challenges.
As you say - the seeds of the cycles of life are the main reward and prize of that kind of persistence and guts, whatever the kinds of challenges arise demanding to be faced & all the determination needed applied to new kinds of challenges.
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Thanks Michael. Always good to hear from you.
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Thank you very much, Mary.
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Thank you, Faith. I appreciate the compliment to the poem and to my art.
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Thank you Sha. I too agrre that it would be better for this planet. Use our hands instead of mass destructive machines.
great poem Wayne ..love the words..1
Beautiful poem... a take on this life that we don't often see.
Love this, Wayne, really great write here! I believe this is my new favorite and I love your art there. So much talent, all the way around.
Up and more and sharing
Blessings, Faith Reaper
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jhamann, thank you sir! So how was your Burning Man trip? Or have you gone yet?
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Wayne, why do I get the feeling that you have worked up a sweat quite a bit in your lifetime? : )
Thanks for stopping by.
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Thank you Susan. There is nothing quite like eating food that you have grown from soil that you created.
I have to tell you, Wayne, the title grabbed me from the start. The message however, kept me reading and nodding my head. Oh, how I wish we'd go back to the days of living off the land. Tending the land and allowing it to do what our great Earth was meant to do - to be fruitful and multiply.
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Why, thank you, Billy. I knew there was something I liked about you! : )
I know you are in Washington now. Is that where you were raised?
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Thank you very much, Vincent. The share and support are appreciated.
In honoring these people...I am honored; because these were my people. Actually they are all our people. We need to remember; we are all in this struggle to survive together. We are one big village. One big family.
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Nellieanna, I appreciate the lovely compliments, and of course, the lovely visit! : )
I grew up in a farming community to a farming family, and I myself have worked in those fields. The camps and shanty's that now house the Mexican immigrants are the same ones that housed my grandparents when they moved to California from Oklahoma. It is a hard life, but nothing to be ashamed of; Quite the contrary. I am proud of my family and where we are today having come through those struggles. Like I said; hard working and hard loving. And there are other seeds sown than those planted in the earth! It's the cycle of life!
Well crafted and to the point. This is the labor that has made history. Jamie
I think I worked up a little sweat just reading this one! Nicely done, Wayne! ~WB
I can imagine what it would be like to be a farmer, and how gratifying it would be, to be at the harvest reaped from the sown seeds.
So very well-written, Wayne! I come from a farming family and have written often of the hardships they faced....sturdy bloodline for sure. :)
Wayne by the sweat of brow, the toughness of heart, the determination of lions, the agility and students of their crafts, these peoples, led the way, for so many to follow. Without their courage, fortitude and down right vision, the seeds of hope may never have been given, let alone planted. I lift up my cup in humble gratitude for all the men, woman and children who grew from the soil, a strong nation with all their plantations. Beautifully expressed in your verse, bravo, I applaud you fellow poet. Tweeted, voted and shared.
I'm delighted at the courage and heart in this view of one bleak episode in our nation's history, which wasn't - isn't - a closed chapter. Among forgotten workers, share-croppers (even with less sharing involved), there are always the repetitions of going on beneath most people's line of view & compassion.
But the spirit of the souls as you eloquently describe rises above any tribulation or squalor to triumph all the more gloriously. In the end, it is the spirit of souls which has the ability either to succumb or to triumph; - nothing else at any level of society does or can.
Thank you for an inspiring glimpse into that particular era, Wayne.
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