Our farm

A poem a girl living on a farm enjoying the freedom her life has to offer.


1. Our Farm

I ran through the field of wheat

The moist mud squelched between my toes

The cold wind blew through my hair

No a care in the world, I slowed to a walk


I stepped through the gate, looked down at my muddy dress

A whistled tune met my ears, I smiled

As I slid through the oak barn doors

And sat down on a bail of hay


I whipped out my notebook, I clicked my pen

I scribbled in the diary I cherished so much

Mother started calling, it was time to start work

And I took a deep breath of the fresh morning air


First were the chickens, I checked for the eggs

I scattered the grain, as they fluttered about

I would stand there and watch, as they fought and squabbled

Then I’d slowly creep out of their chaotic pen


I loved to milk the cows, to drink the fresh warm milk

They always sat quietly, grazing on hay

Every so often, a gentle moo I would hear

Until I moved onto the next


I stretched it, banged the dough on the table

A cloud of flour hovered in the air

And as I slid it into the oven

My only thoughts were of the taste


Life was good on our farm

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