Providence

Daddy farmed in North Dakota for many, many years,
Where the tribulations could drive a lesser man to tears.
My daddy worked with Nature when he tilled his fields of grain.
He knew of Earth's fragility and never caused her pain.
No chemicals or poisons were scattered upon his fields.
It was the whims of Nature that dictated yearly yields.
If spring rains were generous he was sure of good return.
The year that rains refused to fall, crops would dry up and burn.
In those sad years, for some, the living was very, very lean.
With Daddy's homegrown produce we could eat like kings and queens.
My daddy was an expert at making a garden grow.
There was no tenacious weed that would not fall beneath his hoe.
We had nutritious food from Daddy's intensive labor.
We ate well in those bad years, with food left for our neighbor.

By:Joyce 5/27/02