I deeply desire to be the wife of a farmer.
To burrow in his embrace until I get warmer.
To smell his skin; the scent of the earth
And to capture his smile, oh how much that'd be worth!
Open fields and wondrous sounds
Of gravel on the road, of treasures being found.
The golden rays would then waltz on my cheek
And my hardworking farmer, his God he would seek.
I can just feel his strong hands holding on to mine;
Gazing in his eyes our hands, we'd entwine.
Prancing over fields and strolling barefoot by the corn
Or watching the sunrise and morning glory being born.
When my belly grows, and life on the hillside is changed,
I'll make a prayer of how I hope my baby loves all of his days.
I'll nurture to him to health with the milk of my breast;
Giving him love, while tenderly watching him rest.
My daughters and I will sow in the garden,
While my sons follow their dad and try to be like him.
The girls will wear summer dresses, and play with their toys.
And my sons will discover bugs, while trying to be boys.
Oh how I deeply desire to be the wife of a farmer.
To witness the happenings of us. We. Him and her.
To experience with clarity the days of our youth;
And watch our children grow--our beautiful labor, our fruit.
