Once upon a time,
There was a little boy,
Who had a red tractor,
That was his only toy.

That tractor was special,
It could disc and it could plow,
He played with as a child,
And he still plays with it now.

The tractor that was a toy,
Had grown into his life,
Rows of crops to harvest,
To support a child and wife.

Second generation farmer,
He was his father's son,
Working dawn to dusk each day,
Until the harvest was done.

That red plastic tractor,
From his childhood days,
Sat up on his dresser,
All tires, now frayed.

It was a reminder to him,
Of where his life began,
Fond memories of a time,
When his dad was the man.

His father, now retired,
Still likes to lend a hand,
It's difficult to stop farming,
When you love the land.