Fence BuildingA Poem by John Alexander McFadyenPhysical work!Fence Building The damp smell of clay earth still clings to my finger nails from the spoil scooped out and lifted with my bare hands from so many post holes sunk by a trenching spade. There is a sense of satisfaction even with October rain sluicing upon my head and running in rivulets down my chilled cheeks, For this is man’s work; brutal, physical and honest. Work which tests the spirit and the body, calling my muscles to action with each blow that cuts into roots and rocks and penetrates the soil until I can stand back knowing I have dug deep enough.
26/10/14 © 2014 John Alexander McFadyenAuthor's NoteReviews
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Added on October 26, 2014Last Updated on November 7, 2014 AuthorJohn Alexander McFadyenBrixworth, England, United KingdomAboutWell, have a long and complicated story and started it as an autobiography on Bebo but got writer's block/memory fogging. People liked it though and kept asking for the next chapter! fools.. more.. |

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