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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Farm life’s been replaced by sad memories,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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Old Minnie’s Farm

 

cropped-cold-2.jpg

This is the saga of ‘Old Minnie’s’ farm,
the tale and estate are both humble.
Old clapboard cottage in dire need of paint,
and a barn roof ready to buckle.
“““““
The farm was the home of many a beast;
and while each had a story to tell.
Worn out Minnie had no time for fables;
for she saw to each tiresome detail.
“““““`
The fields bore more thistle than timothy,
fertilizer is hard to disperse.
Yet without it the hayfield’s lie barren.
Near as barren as Old Minnie’s purse.
““““““
An ancient grey mare labored with Minnie,
to harvest what weeds they could gather.
Tansy by name; worked from morning to-night,
she too was in no mood for chatter.
““““““
Bertha the milk-cow produced every year.
Farmer Wesselhoeft loaned out his bull.
With boney old frame, and nearly bald hide,
she’d no time to gab with her mouth full.
““““““`
The old sow Drucilla bore young each year,
and kept meat on poor Minnie’s table.
She’d shed a tear as her young disappeared,
slept at night in old Tansy’s stable.
“““““““
The hens had each other for company,
there were far too many to mention.
When Minnie came gathering ‘offerings’,
they’d all cluck as they stood at attention.
“““““““
Poor as the church mice and yet they survived,
at end of the day they had plenty.
For each had a place and each had a part,
working together as family.

 

c.d.m. 10/2012

 

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Hell or High Waters

 

 

beauty

Come hell or high waters
words easy to say
much harder to live by
I find more each day

I swear I’ll forget you
start over again
Come hell or high waters
you haunt me old friend.

By day I watch over
my thoughts cause I can
when dream time takes over
you put forth your hand.

This life I am living
seems empty and bare
I look for you each time
I go any where.

I want to forget you
deep down in my heart.
Come hell or high waters
we’re never apart.

c.d.m.11/6/17

 

 

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Silent Words

window picture

Why is it you don’t think of me
while I so often think of you
You haunt my dreams and fill my days
with wishes, never yet come true.

I watch for you when I’m in town
while hoping to catch just a glance
to see your eyes and volumes speak
to you of whispers of romance.

I can’t forget the slightest touch
that we shared oh so long ago
excepting rules we never moved
as passions winds on us would blow.

I never spoke and nor did you
the moment seemed to slip away.
Yet still you’re there between my breasts
you haunt my dreams and fill my days.

 

c.d.m. 7/25/17

 

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Beware the Swamp

faded glory

Be careful of the dark swamp
oh Mister President.
Of gators neath the surface,
for they Sir, are hell bent.

To grab and pull you under
in a horrid death roll,
while masking their intentions,
and blackness of their soul.

Smiling through lying lips
with words you want to hear,
seek to get into your head
to whisper in your ear.

“We know the way you should go
so soften up your stance;
we know the ropes, follow us
your one and only chance.”

Beware the swamps dark creatures
gators, snakes and quicksand,
designed to halt your progress
then steal a Leaders stand.

Recall the words you’ve spoken
you heard US; we heard you.
Seek God alone for guidance
do what you said you’d do.

cheryl davis miller 12/7/16

 

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Purple Haze

peace

Another life has passed today
lost in a purple haze.
Tears flow from family and friends
all due to a drug craze.

Haze of the craze; a moments ease
from some of life’s turmoil.
but for relief the cost has been
a life of crime and toil.

A fair exchange, I ask of you
for moments of relief?
A life cut short with disregard
by purple haze, a thief.

There is no beauty in that life
no glamour can be found.
Heart sick souls that seek relief in
a purple haze are drowned.

Angels are weeping in heaven
for that which might have been;
if purple haze had never won
the war called heroine.

cheryl davis miller 11/28/16

9/17/16       11/28/16

 

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A Swan Song

 

t

Why is it you would want to hear
the music of my death cry?
You of all people have to know
that sound means, I will soon die.

Yet you taunt me on and on to
come sing you a lullaby.
The only question in my heart
is but to ask you why. Why?

You’ve known my weakness and my strength;
faults and all you’d not decry.
Yet now you bury your knife deep
I sing to you my goodbye..
cheryl davis miller 10/18/16

picture courtesy of ; Terri Jeans Photography,  Nelsonville Ohio

 

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