The Ant Farmer

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  • Musings
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  • Humor

    The Ant Farmer

    William called himself an ant
    farmer. Not a farmer who is an
    ant but a man who farms ants.
    No on thought him much full with
    wits, though he knew himself full with
    wisdom planting-wise. One thumb-
    deep into the earth, two to four ants,
    to be sure, cover, and water
    daily with sugary nectar. Then the
    hill swells tall feet high, a sure
    sign that the hollow roots are
    setting well far-deep. Spring
    and the fields of shining hard fruit
    hanging from trees capable of
    bearing three time their weight
    march next. A generous harvest
    sold to the Ant-Eater family down
    the lane,who were really the
    Aardvark family who ate only ants,
    which William grew best, they
    always said.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    LeeryRoscoe’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Ant Farmer 0
    Nay 0
    Plan B 1
    Falling 1
    Darkened Psalm 1
    Discourse 0
    Dust Dance 0
    Madame Barreta 0
    The Line 0