*This poem is based on a real life experience I had some time ago. Please see my narrative post that coincides in “Sunday Seeds” category at: sporterhall.wordpress.com. Enjoy!

As he climbed his ladder, to hedges high,

I could only stare as I drove by.

A daunting task, for him ahead,

How would he finish? I secretly pled.

A job not envied by anyone,

performed under the heat of the hot scorching sun.

When I saw the sweat drip from his chest,

I privately prayed, that he’d soon rest.

How could anyone drive by, and witness his thirst?

To turn a blind eye, simply the worst.

I swallowed hard, as I felt his pain,

no moisture in sight, no chance of rain.

I vowed to return with refreshing libation,

as I sat in the midst of the church congregation.

When I came back, he was still there,

immersed in his work, of me, unaware.

I brought him drink of water and ice,

of which he thought was astoundingly nice.

He couldn’t believe that I had been so kind,

the kindness of a stranger, so rare to find.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall