Here's to the farmer, give him a hand
For he is the backbone of our land.
Without his trips from the house to the stable
There'd be no food on your breakfast table

Those tender hams, so juicy and sweet,
It took a lot of sweat to grow that meat.
And the texture of that delicious steak
Will just make your belly quiver and quake.

But remember, it took a lot of hay and grain
For him to make any profitable gain.
So city people, never boil
When you see a farmer burning midnight oil.

Those seeds he carefully puts in the field
Next year may become a part of your meal.
To ably provide for his city friends,
His boundless energy knows no end.

Tho he's been in the field for half of the night
He'll be back at the barn at the very first light.
Now the only time you'll ever see him frown
Is when income tax time, next year, rolls around.

As he figures his books with articulate care
You will notice the gray creep into his hair.
And he wonders how he's made ends meet
As he looks at the soil around his feet.

But all he's ever asked from the day of his birth
Is to live and work in God's good earth.
Now when his life on earth is oe'r
He'll enter thru that great stable door.
And there he'll be with the Lord, we know,
Still farming as he did below.

So parents when your children ask
Whose name in history is sure to last,
Don't say Armstrong, Sir John A. or Bower,
Just mention any strong, yet lowly farmer.


Submitted By: Ed Alexander