Tag Archives: farmers poem

The Farm



window picture

While driving a back road the other day
came across an old farm in sad decay.
I pulled off to the side to view the site.
Wonder how this farm fell into this plight.

Searching I pictured sites; from long ago.
The farmhouse was blanketed by the snow.
Smoke curled from the chimney by night and day.
Kids ignored the cold while busy at play.

Looked once again and saw Spring drawing nigh.
As play was replaced by chores by and by.
All hands were required to work the farm.
With each generation; farm life lost charm.

With summer came work from daylight to dark
and seldom a chance for a play-day lark.
A dip in the creek; seemed a rare treasure.
Life on a farm left small time for pleasure.

With Fall’s arrival came new work to do.
There’s meat and tators; to mention a few.
Cords of dry wood to stack neatly in rows.
Then stock the larder and fill the silos.

Winter comes to offer a brief repose.
Dad works on the books and Mama she sews.
Kids all enjoy; what seems a holiday.
Climbing the hill to ride down on a sleigh.

Each passing year the desire has waned.
“Jobs are in town,” all the children explained.
Venturing off they all leave one by one,
parents pass on and the farm; it is done.

Farm life’s been replaced by sad memories,
I thought as I sat there beneath the trees.
A life style forgotten and left behind.
One trip pass that farm brought this all to mind.

c.d.m. 2010


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Blue’s Dues

I live in the midst of Amish country.
Their wares for sale on signs I see.
Quilts, Maple syrup, eggs and many things,
some sell rockers and pretty porch swings.
My hubby drives by at a break-neck speed.
Saying, “They have nothing that we need.”
I smile as he drives thinking,”That’s okay,
I will just drive back this way someday.”
All  though I never do, I ‘ll tell you why,
I find things go well, when I comply.
He always comes around if given space.
This way I stay in his, and God’s grace.
We live out on a farm so there’s no need,
to find more critters for us to feed.
There’s  dogs, cats, cows and a few chickens too.
I tell you there is plenty to do.
But chasin’ those cows is sure gettin’ old.
That’s for young people so I’ve been told.
One day while drivin’ a sign caught my eye,
‘Aussie Cattle Dogs-Ready to Buy.’
I whipped into that drive as is my way.
Stirred up dust on the quilt dis-play.
Got out and said,”Sorry, I’m here to see,
a cattle dog to chase cows for me.
They stared me down with a grimace and frown,
then walked away neither made a sound.
The man came back with pups under each arm,
said,” Take your pick, they’ll help on your farm.”
I picked the male but I still wasn’t sure,
didn’t look like much, more like a cur.*
I paid him sixty dollars took his word,
that this little pup could move a herd.
Got out of my car with the pup in arms.
Hubby wasn’t moved by tail-less charms.
Knew what he tho’t by the look in his eye,
‘ I’d been took with my cattle dog buy.’
Well we settled on a name, called him Blue,
this is a true tale, I’m telling you.
At four months Blue had the bull convinced,
to stay in the field where he’d been fenced.
Hubby gave Blue his dues, had to admit
the pup knew his stuff and had some grit.
Said,” Blues not just another mouth to feed,
that Amish did have something we need.”

c.d.m. 8-29-11

* In my neck of the woods ‘sure’ and ‘cur’ [ a mutt], rhyme. 🙂

The picture is one of Blue at about 6 months old.


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A sad good-by, to you Annie,
You were “mama’s” girl, for so long,
All tho, I never bore you,
I helped you, grow up to be strong,
Twenty-one years, I’ve tended you,
Since your real mom, passed away,
After twenty-one years,I must say good-by,
and bury you, today,

If there is a”cow heaven”,
I know that’s where you’ll be,
Running in knee high pasture,
and keeping an eye out for me.

Miss you girl…

              c.d.m. 1-29-11

My cow died yesterday,we have to bury her today. Real farmers thought love was wasted on a cow and we should have sold her, instead of retiring her at 17.  My husband said, she was born here, raised here, gave us 14 healthy calfs, and no problems. I raised her on a bottle after her mother died having her. [thus the name “Orphan Annie”] She deserves to die here, in peace and love and not be shipped off for hamburger. So she has and she is, at peace and loved. Let those “real farmers” laugh…


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Summer Gardening,,,


                    Summer  Gardening

It was a have -to case, for so many years,
just to feed, the family,
That I hung up my gloves, for a long time,
and rested my poor knees,
But it gets in your blood, and you miss it,
when you’ve given it, up for a  while,
The first smell of the earth, as we turned it,
caused my lips, to smile,
Then there was the, fertilizing, 
and marking out, of the rows,
And planning what go’s where, is important,
just as every gardener, knows,
The corn must go in, two by two,
cucumbers need room, to vine,
Marigolds, keep the bugs away,
at least they do, in mine,
Potatoes must have lot’s, of room,
so they can then be, hilled,
The hoe, must tend to every row,
for the larder, to be filled,
Tomatoes, must be tied up,
so the sun can touch the fruit,
Beans, like a little lime applied,
but they still, will make you ‘toot’,
The strangest tale, I’ve yet to hear,
an old woman, recounted to me,
Concerning, sweet green peppers,
and how to plant them, properly,
She looked up at me, with a toothless grin,
said,’ For peppers to bear fruit miss’,
‘You must plant them real close together’,
’cause see,  ‘sweet’ peppers just love to kiss’.

                                              c.d.m.  5-31-10


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