Beneath the endless sky, where dreams are sown,
A farmer toils, his heart in every seed,
The earth, his canvas, whispers unknown,
In silent symphony, they find their creed.
The morning sun, a gentle guide above,
Kisses the fields with golden, tender grace,
Each furrowed line, a testament of love,
Etched in the soil, time leaves its trace.
Seasons dance, in rhythm they embrace,
A cycle of hope, of harvest and renew,
With calloused hands, he tends to every space,
In humble gratitude, his spirit grew.
As twilight falls, beneath the starlit dome,
He rests, with dreams of verdant lands to roam,
A farmerâs life, in nature finds its home,
In whispered winds, the earth becomes his poem.