Friday, December 31, 2010

Country Evening

The sounds of a country evening
Waft across the fields with smells
Of cornbread and hoppin' John:
The bellowing of burros in the barnyard,
The slow clang of cow bells,
And the lowing of cattle
As they head home from the sweet meadow grass
Into the corral for the night.
The calves cavort and bulls quicken their step
When they hear the low rumble of an old Ford pickup
And the clank and creak of rusty hinges
As someone opens the gate.
Supper time: Animals come first
In the daily routine of farm life.

Written October 2010

3 comments:

  1. Oh I love this. I can hear the animals, the bells and the old Ford........yes, animals first! Lovely pastoral portrait, it feels like time out of time......

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  2. Such distinctive sound qualities add an amazing dimension to your description. Such atmosphere and sense of place and time.

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  3. Lillian,
    I'm very pleased to have discovered your poetry via Poets United.
    I love your words in this poem, as it evokes very happy childhood memories of happy days spent on holiday at my grandmother's farm in Northern Ireland.

    I have added you to my Blog following Lillian and hope to read your words again.

    Best wishes, Eileen

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