🔵 By Christopher S. De Roberts. Photo by lauragrafie.
On a rainy day
I know not to make my way
Out to mow the hay
So, in the bed I lay
Rain makes for the best sleep
How sweet, and ever so deep
I pray, the Lord my soul to keep
From me, you will not hear a peep
There will be nothing but sweet, sweet dreams
No worries, so it seems
As I lay on these forgotten beams
Reading from these paper reams
When I wake, ever so slow
I know it’s time to go
To the field of hay I mow
How long I slept, I do not know
This work must be done in the sun
And can be so much fun
Before you know, it is done