Granddad never seemed to mind
cake, balloons, and gifts to honor him,
as birthdays rolled on slowly by
a lifetime spent working these fields -
his "dash" - his annual yield of crops.
Today, in remembrance of all
the goodness that this fertile land
had given back in return for toil,
he gazes over his dash - those golden
rows of plowed and seeded earth.
And he is content his life was blessed
with a long dash of plentiful harvests.


This was an enjoyable read, as well as informative. Thanks for the notes, and for your time and talent. Love, lane

And congratulations to all the winners!!!





12 old applause
