A Preacher©

I saw a preacher cut some weeds,

Scratch the ground and drop some seeds.

He saw no reason to plow and hoe;

That kind of work is tiresome and slow.

He wasn't concerned about the crop it would yield,

For he was already looking for another field.

To work and sweat just wasn't his style,

Besides, he'd be moving on in a little while.

The work he did was lighthearted and fast,

He really wouldn't worry if it did not last.

But another preacher came with a big old plow,

And set to work with a sweating brow.

Some of them, began to howl and weep

As he cut his furrows wide and deep.

He sure broke it deep and he sure broke it fine,

He hauled off the rocks, the weeds, and the vines.

Finally, it was ready and he dropped his seeds,

Then he called on God for the rain he would need.

He watched after his field and worked it well.

As the warm summer rain steadily fell.

Soon the harvest began to appear,

And the folks all came from far and near.

They came and looked and asked him how.

While the preacher said,

"It was my big old plow."

- From GATHERED FRAGMENTS