The Old Farmer
The Old Farmer
I write sometimes too much, other times not quite enough
Getting the time, or room in peace to work can be tough
Before I wrote my most viewed piece, Destination Homestead
There was a man who taught me to use an axe in the shed
Before if was the right time to do my Generation Jumping
There was a man , well-read, his stories true, lacking nothing
I remember a guy who could dribble, and throw with either hand
He was there for The Hug, it’s my pleasure knowing this man
The December women, Janette and Marjorie ; both gardener’s
I love. I feel. I write. This too, I shared God Made a Farmer
Today is my birthday and as a present I’d rather share
Read on, if the words pull you, let them take you there
The following lines only begin to capture what I see,
In the fading clips my mind plays of how it used to be
But, if I could, I’d be there now, as it was, maybe inside
In the old north room, from icy wind you could not hide
Or perhaps I’d come down the old stairs just a bit
To smell the bacon, still my favorite I must admit
Settle in here and take this trip, maybe grab a partner
These are my heroes see, each one I call the old farmer
Mean What You Say II
Like each drop of water running through my favorite stream, your words to me matter I find they are tossed conveniently away though, often, my heart in balance, left to shatter Day after… Mean What You Say II
Mean What You Say
When I hear your words I want to believe I actually don’t think you purposefully deceive They say a man is only as good as his word So I try to mean all of the… Mean What You Say
Impending Night
there’s a lump in my throat where a laugh used to be did the good times get away, or is that just me? there is ache where distant smiles war again to be recalled… Impending Night
Mistreated
History telling. Abuse overwhelming. Ignorance quelling.


