The Day Farmer Poem by Delmar Koehn

He paused a bit to take a breath. The days were flying by!
At first his heart begins to sigh.
Where are they going? Feeble days...
But, ere the sigh is out of air, he smiles.
He cannot understand the good Lord's ways
But with contentment takes his portion, from the miles.

Each time he turns a page upon the calendar,
He's sort of harvesting the age, each day a sheaf, God given.
And ere he turns another leaf, his heart can feel the pain.
But how it’s lessened when he knows, He's threshed out every grain!