Chapter 1 : A new start

A Time to Talk
When a friend calls to me from the road.

And slows his horse to a meaning walk,I don’t stand still and look around.

On all the hills I haven’t hoed,And shout from where I am, What is it?

No, not as there is a time to talk.I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,

Blade-end up and five feet tall,And plod:

I go up to the stone wall.

For a friendly visit.