she was too bright for that
small farm town
so bright she almost burned it down
because of this she moved to
where the sun shone most and
wilted, until she became little more
than a dandelion
you see, before she was a wild rose
that no one could tame
beautiful still, but not the flower
which everyone remembered
she was never the same--
that sunshine girl

They said
Demand an explanation for barns in the second person
I said
Let me show you where the hay is.

The big red barn
the color of my heart
when i look at you,
Baby.

I am just a country boy,
a Frenso FarmBoy- I am but a humble peasant
to yuor Highness.

But I love you, regardles of everything.
When I was younger I dreamt of
a cornfield to call my own.
Now, I only dreem
of your eyes.

I sit here on the side
Of my own long road
Listening to the memories
Of crickets and toads
As I remember back
To years of childhood
Spent feeling lucky
To be in the wildwood.

No car horns honking
No neighbors screaming.
No jarring realities to
Waken me from dreaming.
The breezes and the stars
The city kid changing gears
Creating a landscape that has
Resided in me through the years.

Ice cream socials and songs
Sung in the church nearby
Bringing tears to my eyes
But I did not know why.
Why did these simple folks
So very glad to be alive
Smile through the foment
Then go right on to thrive?

They had no television,
Some had radios to hear
They relied on Farmer’s Almanac
To help them through the year.
They made their way themselves,
Knew when to plant and to reap.
When to harvest and store food;
Early to rise and early to sleep

They had a car and a tractor
But seldom had to leave home.
They bought this farm
When they lost the urge to roam.
We didn’t go to movies then,
But weddings and funerals
Brought friends together;
Cousins aunts and uncles.

At summers end I went back
To the city I knew so well
And got used to being there
After a rather touchy spell.
The water tasted differently
And Grandma was a great cook.
So, a whole lifetime later
Those days deserve another look.

I grew up on a farm
Happy smiling childhoods
Running to & fro with the cows
My very best friends
Little did I know
This would soon end

I moved to the city
While singing a ditty
I was pretty sad
But I knew that here, fun was to be had

I bought an apartment
But I reminisce about the farm still
Oh boy do I miss it
Enough to ****

I still dream about the farm
So one day I took a visit trip
I saw the cows again
My thoughts were running wild like snip snip

Oh boy the farm is fun
Just like the rays of a sun
I recommend you try it
Before you forget to try it

Growing up country...A day in the life ©
I lay on my bed awake staring at the ceiling
No need for an alarm cause I have two
One is brooster the rooster and the is
A holler I call “father”

And then there it is the shout from below
“Get up you slugs we have things to do and places to go”
I leap out of bed toss on some clothes no need to be picky
For we ain’t likely to see nobody this way today

The race down the stairs is on, only three brothers to beat
Getting to the kitchen table to get a seat and grub to eat
The smell of bacon permeates the air
And mom is at the bottom stair to give a hug right there

As we chow down we all look around at each other
Knowing full well the list and which one we druthers
There’s tillin the garden with a ***, muckin the pens with its stench,
Fence mendin with barb wire or ridein that metal steed named Deere

And on this day through luck of the draw or Dad’s decision
I create furrow after furrow with precision and after awhile
And many circles complete the mind tends to wander into a haze
As you slide from side to side on that hard seat amidst a glaze

What will this fall harvest bring after the chores are complete
A trip to the fair and rodeo to compete and there I will be the winner
In that girl’s blue eyes as I lift up that grand prize
She’ll notice me then, that pretty little thing and proudly wear my ring

The old John Deere will transform from a metal steed to a pickup I will need
For those kids who will be taught to heed, respect their elders and lay seed
We’ll live on a farm just like this one built on strong backs from generation
To generation hoping to build a better nation

Andreas Simic©

like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!

duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift