Rich Harvest

© Sharon Knight
I saw this photo by Sharon Knight on Sascha Darlington’s blog and knew it was the perfect photo for this poem as well.  Thanks to both Sharon Knight and Sascha as well as dVerse poets, who sponsored this prompt. Like Sharon Knight, I grew up in the midwest and this photo could easily have been taken in my home state of South Dakota, a bit before the harvest time described in my poem.

Details from retablo “The Gleaners.” Painting by Anna O’Neglia, retablo and photo by jdb (Click on any photo to enlarge all)

Rich Harvest

The night that we brought in the wheat,
our weeks of labor now complete,
we raised our voices, beat our feet,
and in that stifling prairie heat,
weary and arm-sore, yet replete
with satisfaction for jobs well-done
earned in the dust and chaff and sun,
we ceased our labors and had some fun.

Hank gave the prim schoolteacher a treat
by lifting her from her safe seat
to move her to the fiddler’s beat.
Soon, her hairpins met defeat,
her wild hair anything but neat,
 and Hank was heard to woo the miss
and then to plant a tender kiss.
She remembers all of this

now that their family’s complete
with Rita, Sarah, and little Pete.
Now every harvest, when you greet
each townsperson you chance to meet,
chances are they will repeat
how Hank brought in the wheat that year
and afterwards, conquered his fear
and dared to call the school marm, “dear.”

The prompt today is treat.

29 thoughts on “Rich Harvest

    1. lifelessons Post author

      Yes.. but I changed Hank’s name to Cliff in the last stanza. Probably the schoolmarm’s idea! (Forgottenman to the rescue, as usual, and pointed it out. Now Hank has regained his identity._

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      Reply
  1. Pingback: Photographer Interview – Margaret Lindsay Holton – ‘Pinhole Photography’ | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

  2. Gospel Isosceles

    Haha, I had to look up “marm”. Calling her dear reminds me of an essay by George Saunders I just read yesterday, who was deeply touched when he heard his mentor, Tobias Wolff, call Wolff’s own son “dear.” Something about all of his strength and life wisdom culminating in gentleness.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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