The day's work done

to his home he's bound

the old man and his tractor

with a rusty sound.

 

Clothes of work

face and hands reflect

the quiet dignity

the hard earned respect.

 

He has taken the land

and the sun that did shine

and planted the earth

for your table and mine.

 

Rows and rows

of fresh turned earth

taking his seed

and giving it birth.

 

It must be nice

to make things grow

and to be as one

with natures flow.

 

Knowing today

that he's done his best

he's headed for home

for a quiet rest.

 

This old man

that knows no strife

because he's in the rhythm

the rhythm of life.

​

- Peter