FARM WAITING
The farm, ignoring passerby,
continues to grow crops.
Fields of wheat, barley and rye.
Soon-to-be pork chops
wander the muddy pits.
Where? Down on the farm.
Cat carries her kits,
mouth too full for mice.
Freshly plowed earth
waits to be sown
with beets or wild rice.
There is no dearth
of things to be known.
There, down on the farm.
Chickens hunt and peck,
spread across the earthen deck.
Sheep waiting to be shorn
look lonely and forlorn
under a tarp all tattered and torn.
Crows wait for scarecrow to move
so they can eat their fill of corn.
Somewhere down on the farm.
Spiders reside in old barn's corners
looking to spin their webs of silk.
Intrigue filling the space
as if haunted by dark foreigners.
Closeline full of linen and lace.
Cows, mooing, wait to be milked.
Here, down on the farm.
Old, green tractor sits out in the field
waiting for its master to fire her up.
Bundles of hay lay nearby all tied up and sealed.
Ready for use as future feed
by whomsoever has the need
to eat and sup.
Pastured horses neigh,
hungry, down on the farm.
Garden waits for water,
near the farmhouse,
by farmer's daughter.
Doing what she oughter
she woke up early,
all perky and bright.
Hair aglow in the sun,
Oh! what a sight.
Lovely, down on the farm.
Rooster crows on cue.
Mut of a dog, barking,
does not know what to do.
Smoke curls from tin flue
breakfast for the farmer
fries on wood stove.
Here, close to the ferry
nearby the quiet cove,
the morning sun warms all who wait.
Waiting for the noble farmer,
hands gnarled, callused and rough,
face lined, but happy and tough,
here in these early spring days
waiting for the dog days of summer.
Waiting here down on the farm.
The farmer rises and greets the day,
rises from his front porch throne.
Now in his zone, coffee in hand,
he walks forth,
forth towards his farm.
The wait is over, down on the farm.
--------------------------------
mindbringer, 13 May 2011
The farm, ignoring passerby,
continues to grow crops.
Fields of wheat, barley and rye.
Soon-to-be pork chops
wander the muddy pits.
Where? Down on the farm.
Cat carries her kits,
mouth too full for mice.
Freshly plowed earth
waits to be sown
with beets or wild rice.
There is no dearth
of things to be known.
There, down on the farm.
Chickens hunt and peck,
spread across the earthen deck.
Sheep waiting to be shorn
look lonely and forlorn
under a tarp all tattered and torn.
Crows wait for scarecrow to move
so they can eat their fill of corn.
Somewhere down on the farm.
Spiders reside in old barn's corners
looking to spin their webs of silk.
Intrigue filling the space
as if haunted by dark foreigners.
Closeline full of linen and lace.
Cows, mooing, wait to be milked.
Here, down on the farm.
Old, green tractor sits out in the field
waiting for its master to fire her up.
Bundles of hay lay nearby all tied up and sealed.
Ready for use as future feed
by whomsoever has the need
to eat and sup.
Pastured horses neigh,
hungry, down on the farm.
Garden waits for water,
near the farmhouse,
by farmer's daughter.
Doing what she oughter
she woke up early,
all perky and bright.
Hair aglow in the sun,
Oh! what a sight.
Lovely, down on the farm.
Rooster crows on cue.
Mut of a dog, barking,
does not know what to do.
Smoke curls from tin flue
breakfast for the farmer
fries on wood stove.
Here, close to the ferry
nearby the quiet cove,
the morning sun warms all who wait.
Waiting for the noble farmer,
hands gnarled, callused and rough,
face lined, but happy and tough,
here in these early spring days
waiting for the dog days of summer.
Waiting here down on the farm.
The farmer rises and greets the day,
rises from his front porch throne.
Now in his zone, coffee in hand,
he walks forth,
forth towards his farm.
The wait is over, down on the farm.
--------------------------------
mindbringer, 13 May 2011
