Rhythm of Harvest

The rhythm of harvest
Is akin to the rhythm of a band;
In the morning it is the slowest
As the workers spread across the land.

For fear of being workless
Players and farmhands don't dare make a mistake
For fear of being forever marked worthless
And for fear of the conductors of farmers wrath they will have to take.

In preperation for the big event
The player places his bow
Upon his instrument.
The farmer pulls his hat down low,

He rises from his seat,
Sets the tempo,
Now the farmhands must take the beat,
Keeping it steady, untill as the sun sets you hear the creshendo.

KT McMurray February 2009