"Of thee I humbly ask"

I beg of you sir-madam please
I can no longer stand on my feet
My work in the fields of thirty years
Gathering the winter wheat
Just as my mother had done before
Back to the days of the Czar
Her sisters and mother also worked
They drank from the samovar
From tea leaves gathered in early spring
Mint leaves also were kept
I watched my baby brother in his crib
As he peacefully slept
Little did he know that one day would come
When he would learn the total sum
Now I have worked my fingers
Until they can work no more
I beg of you sir-I am no whore
Just enough for some bread with my tea
To get me off of this desolate street
I want to sleep the peaceful sleep
And die in my silent retreat
I will think of my mother and dream of the days
When we worked in the fields of wheat
When my eyes shall close for the final time
I shall refuse my own defeat

~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved