His strong arms pushed the plow across the field.
He was preparing for the seeds to yield.
It was with this soil his work would be sealed.
This land would be lush with his green and healed.
So great was the charm of this young man's smile.
His strength like rock, his body smooth like tile.
His will overtook this land that was vile.
It would now yield a crop worth all his while.
As he worked, the sun would beat down it's rays.
The heat was known for its aggressive ways.
For most people, his hard work would amaze.
He enjoyed fighting the sun all his days.
He insisted that the fight made him strong.
So he would still work, though the day was long.
Some people thought he was crazy and wrong.
He would laugh and beat his chest like a gong.
His work paid off when the harvest was here.
His crop was so massive that it caused fear.
The pride he felt ensured he had no peer.
The lover of the sun could not be mere.
