.5. The Balers Lot Poem by David Threadgold

Bind the bales with plastic binder
Working hard the suns a blinder
Callused hands it could be kinder
Needing gloves a sore reminder

Baled with binder pile them higher
In the hay loft you desire
Farmers combine back for hire
Next door neighbours now require

Blazing sun and scorching back
Callused hands have now turned black
Went for tea break in the shack
Back to work or get the sack

Baler binding sun that’s blinding
Every year don’t need reminding
Needing gloves but never finding
Work without and never minding

Backache blisters lots of bruising
All those places you’ve been using
Why we do it so confusing
Back next year that’s so amusing


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes