Heartless is the place without a home,
Lost is the face that isn’t known,
Body still functions, the muscles struggle together,
Vision its strained, beat down and weathered,
Rise everyday and put in the effort,
Gone before you slow down, must be the right they left for,
Lost in the words the focus will be,
Chirping like birds, a flock of geese,
Yet rise once more wipe clear for the vision,
Is yours to behold, a solitary mission.

When you look at this picture, what do you see?
Shiny faces and clean stacks of apples, crisp from the tree,
There is Oscar, John, Gary and Newt,
Nancy, William and Allen with the apple picking crew,
Do you see the dog wandering almost out of sight?
Or that everyone’s eye is focused to something on the right,
The setting is obvious and plain for generations to see,
But the part of the picture that means the most to me?
I see family and friends living a dream,
Apples packed and stacked by an organized team,
Stop and capture the moment in a picture,
A kind of life that is written in scripture,
To wake up in the morning looking forward to the toil,
Family bounty produced from many hands and soil,
Humble work was one of the crops of this ground,
What else from this picture have you found?

I sit here typing and looking for a ryhme,
Watching the clock tick away the time,
Is it time for work or time for play?
I should head outside to finish my work for the day,
Here is where some words will be written down,
As you read along can you feel the sound?
Sound can be felt if you are aware,
So listen up and see what’s there,
Like a wise man says, “Waking up before the storm”,
This won’t be the same, this takes a different form,
But like I said its time to work I head outside,
It’s a beautiful day, keep your eyes open wide.