My father cuts a furrow, true lines does he run, <br />My father cuts a furrow, no horses did he have, <br />My father cuts a furrow no fields, hills of grass, <br />My fathers furrows were wisdom, <br />This is what he had. <br /> <br />To his dying day his gait was straight and true, <br />My father was not a farmer, for the city, <br />All he knew. <br /> <br />As father cut his furrow, so does hit son, I am told, <br /> <br />The wisdom my Father passed on to lay dormant, <br />Many years, put on hold, not until the age of 78 did <br />I realize, not much time left, as I too was growing old, <br />So I write my poetry from my fathers wisdom, <br />That was willed to me, only way to have my stories told. <br /> <br />As father cut his furrow, so does his son, to pass <br />The wisdom, that was left from father, <br />God Bless his soul.<br /><br />Charles Garcia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-father-cuts-a-furrow/
