Poetry Corner: Farmers Farming Afield!


The farm

the field of yields

of springs and of sprouts

of grains and of nuts

of tubers and of fingers

of roots and of fruits


From apple to pineapple

From berry to strawberry

From yam to cocoyam

From avocado to potato

From cocoa to coconut

From akple to tuo zaafi


The farmer

the cold morn could not hold him in bed

after the first cockcrow

The dew could not deny his due

in the chosen duty

The rising sun could not shut his reason

for rising before sunrise

The wild weeds could not weaken his will

to weed the field


He sows his seed in the morning

His hand does not rest until the evening

After the rain

he casts his seed beneath the earth

Many days hereafter

he finds more grains

He watches not the wind

so he sows seed

He looks not at the clouds

so he reaps bountiful harvest


He faces the vagaries of the weather

even when the drought is not in doubt

He borrows in the season of scanty harvest

He sorrows in the season of satiating glut


His work measures his worth

But their words measured his worth

“He is only worth the wealth from the earth

His place belongs in the fringes and corners”

Their worth measured his worth

But his work measures his worth


His best produce proceeds to the market place

for a fairly unfair deal

The crumbs he keeps as a staple

for a family meal

His first fruits must fill up the market place

His lean fruits must fill up his family plates


The middleman meddles with his prosperity

The price of his bag of rice

sees no rise

What they pay for those tubers

is only a pittance

His vegetables are getting rotten

so they pay next to nothing



the oldest occupation

when creation entrusted man with the cultivation of the vegetation



the noblest profession

where returns smacks of zero corruption



the closest link to nature

where nature multiplies the seed of the planter

to feed the eater

Farmers farming afield…Ayekoo!!!

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