This story is written for Friday Fictioneers.
born to poverty, living with fear and crime
left the dirty city with nothing and expected the same and not to do time
he bought this farm with his very last nickel
working day and night with some old hammer and sickle
young and fearless, some say reckless, he married his true love and had five children
determined with all his might not to be a lowly pilgrim
where will it all stop he often wondered
one thing he knew he didn’t want to live to be a hundred
his lined face and worn frame indicated the ringing of his bell lap
Oh Danny Boy! 
Dear Danny,
A rhyme in the rhythm of life. Nice.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks! 😎
DJ
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Good piece. Well written.
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Thanks for the read Jackie.
DJ
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Oh I can see the end is near… really near… and welcome too
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You have that right Bjorn.
DJ
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I suspected what “bell lap” was from your piece but looked it up to make sure. Well done. Hard work and being in the elements can make a person appear older than their years and wear them down.
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Thanks for the read and your time in researching the quote. At least my bell doesn’t ring in the middle of the night 😎
DJ
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A timeless kind of story.
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Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment! Much appreciated.
DJ
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Danny, this has the feel of rap to me, something I generally don’t care for, but I thought the marriage of the gritty feel of your story and the rhythm worked perfectly.
janet
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Thank you Janet for your useful helpful comment.
DJ
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Nicely written, Danny – not a word wasted. 🙂
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Thank you Linda. I always enjoy your post so your comment is most welcome.
DJ
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Ah life! Sometimes it exacts too much price and wearies us !
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Isn’t that the truth! Thanks.
DJ
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🙂
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