Potatoes Poem By: Steven Dewey

Here is the poem I referenced on Facebook.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.  

POTATOES

A poem by Steven Dewey

Dad said I was crazy, “you can’t make money on spuds.

you’ll have all of this machinery and be left with nothin but duds.

Ask the boys in Idaho, they can’t make a dime,

you’ll never come out on top when you figure in your time.”

But dad, “it’s not the money I’m after, afraid that’s not the case,

for I’ve finally understood it’s not the dollar we should race.

The value that I seek is found within the ground,

it’s not gold nor silver neither, it’s measured by the pound.

God has given us all, sufficient for our need.

The fault lies not with God, but falls upon our greed.

I realize now completely, how misled I have been,

it’s the seed that is important, the seed that lies within.

Buried deep in each of us is a knowledge hard to find,

of what really is important and the rest be left behind.

True value lies within, and the service we provide,

can sometimes be expressed thru roughening the hide.

Doing what it takes to grow a set of ‘taters’, using His gifts as given,

is really all that ‘maters’.

As I look around at all the huff and puff,

I see so very clearly it’s not about the stuff.

The boys who grow in Idaho, I expect have got it right,

the spuds they sew in that long row give this life it’s true light!