In spring the farmer’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of plows,
and big hydraulic tractors and breeding better cows.
And if the crops are good this year, they’ll buy a few more acres,
or maybe that new combine that’s for sale at Teddy Baker’s.
 
In spring the farmwife’s fancy lightly turns to roses red,
and lilacs at the gatepost, and tulips by the shed.
And if the crops are good this year, maybe they’ll go somewhere
to stroll a beach, walk foreign streets, and breathe exotic air.
 
For spring is always hopeful, and spring is always young.
In spring your dreams and fancies grow like weeds beneath the sun.
And if the crops aren’t good this year, they’ll feed you just the same.
And you’ll get through, you always do, ‘til springtime comes again.


© by Kate Tompkins.
Used with the author’s permission.