WHEN THE PLOUGHMAN IS GONE

portrait-of-leo-tolstoy-as-a-ploughman-on-a-field-1887When to the daily clarion call
The ploughman takes a toll no more,
Nor after the season of rainfall
Could he record its harvest’s score;

When on the terrains of his farm
He could not till his fertile soil,
Nor could he weigh gram for gram
The outcome of his ceaseless toil;

When by the famous town hill
He could not stop to see the king,
Nor could he visit his friend Jill
To watch him laugh and also sing;

When under the big juniper tree
Where he always sits to wine,
The neighbours pass by severally
And there he shows not a sign;

Then he must have laid to rest
As usual after the work of the day,
When in him death took interest
And decided to take him away.

(C) FOLAJIN ADEMOLA (#OLUMiNOUS)

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