Still without children the farmer and wife
After many years of otherwise happy life
This a sorrow so hard to bear
Full of silent tearful despair
Every day when the farmer leaves for his field
His wife’s eyes with tears are filled
For from her window her eyes would dwell
Positioned there is the village well
Mothers fill their pitchers while their children play
There seated at the well like every other day
A young boy who was barely eight
Left by his Mother from dawn till late
This child, this poor wretched child
Sitting there so meek, and so mild
To his Mother he was just a bind
For he was totally profoundly blind
That night upon the farmers return
Wife said husband you know how we yearn
You know that child, that boy who is blind
We can adopt, I’m sure his mother won’t mind
But my wife my love he can not see
What good in our later life will he be
He has a heart husband of mine
He has a heart, let us be kind
Next morning he left for his field
Praying for a healthy, hearty yield
He left his wife with these words few
I love you wife, do what you have to do
Upon his return late at night
He was greeted by a wonderful sight
For there seated for him to see
He now had a completed family
This was a vision he’d held in his head
Ever since his wife and he had wed
A sight so wonderful to beguile
He showed his delight in his beaming smile
The first few years it was mother and son
The farmer said “to the field he must come”
He led his son then away
To the field for a working day
The farmer maybe long it the tooth
But he found this boy like many a youth
When it came to physical labour
He treated it with contempt and disfavour
So every day he sat on a boulder
While years past and he became older
Isolated, he was all alone
In some place, a world of his own
Then one morning the farmer woke late
A pain in his head and eyes that ache
Within just a matter of hours
He completely lost visual powers
The doctor said farmer my friend
For your sight this is the end
And the farmer he took to crying
He felt he would be better off dying
He started sitting at the well every day
For he could not think of any way
To keep his family feeding
While his heart was constantly bleeding
Then some weeks later
His son approached and said Pater
I don’t want your heart to bleed
Take my hand and I will lead
So on the trek they would start
As he had learnt the route by heart
And as this journey ended
The farmer realised his field had been well tended
From that day to the present
Through good times and the unpleasant
Farmer and son have worked hand in hand
Sowing and reaping their small piece of land
Now you must learn to know
With love and the seeds that you sow
You will most definitely find
That the blind can surely lead the blind
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