The Farm

I wonder if that farm is still
nestled up close against the hill,
where we would visit, laugh, and play,
and sometimes over night we'd stay.

When all the relatives were there,
most sitting at the kitchen chairs,
telling tall tales and cooking up,
delicious food for us to sup.

We'd hurry out and climb the hill,
Exploring, talking, just until
once more we headed to the barn
that stood in all it's rustic charm.

We loved to go at milking time,
when all the cows stood in a line,
now waiting for their turn to eat,
we'd watch them from the window seat.

The smell of hay just made us sneeze,
and through the door we all would squeeze,
we'd sneak upon that secret vat,
where the sweet churning milk was at.

We didn't stay there very long,
to be in there we knew was wrong,
the room was clean, and shiny bright,
where stainless steel caught the light.

Down the long path we ran, so fast,
and waved, as Uncle Henry passed.
His chores were many, ours were few,
but we still found so much to do.

At night, Old Aggie soon would tell
the stories that she knew so well,
then up we'd go, the feather beds,
were soft and sweet upon our heads.

We slept until we heard Aunt Gen,
call to us up the stairs again,.
“Breakfast is ready, come and eat.”
So down we'd go, and find a seat.

Then once again, back out the door,
we'd run down to the field once more.
The sun beat hot upon our brow,
we talked, and laughed, and fed a cow.

One day a fawn came to the farm,
it stayed to eat, away from harm.
they took him in and kept him fed,
sometimes we'd pat him on the head.

He grew, and finally went away
to find his kind, he couldn't stay.
And so, like him, we also grew,
and gradually, the life we knew,
had changed, we too had gone away
to other things. We couldn't stay.

The farm was sold and all moved on,
but It forever will belong
inside my head, when I recall
the good times that were had by all.

And still today I think of then
and smile when I remember when
we were so free and felt at home
at that great farm where we had grown.

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