Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Not Longfellow


Howard wakes, a scratch, a yawn. Pitty-pat of toes to greet the dawn. Gracie rolls, she leaps, she frolics, all her moves are hyperbolic!

The horses call to greet the day, what they really say is, give us hay. The barn is warm, the smell is earth, whilst on I go adding to their girth.

Morning on the farm, life knows no harm, beats poetic cadence by an arm!

The End

8 comments:

A.Smith said...

Indeed. There is something very healthy, and natural, the rhythm of life is so pure in a ranch. I miss sometimes the quiet noise that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. A rooster greets the sun, and the barn stirs, the dogs want in or out, the wind is quiet and there is nothing in this good earth that can compare with the start of a new day there.

I know winters are hard, I know that raising those beauties is both a labor of love and hard labor as well, but I do envy you. Maybe my memory is playing tricks with me, but now I right I could swear I
remember the smell of the wet grass as I was opening the gates.

What you wrote is simple stunning and alive.

Ganeida said...

Soo good to see you are your gently sardonic & witty self again!

On the other hand, when it comes to animals, 2 cats seem more than enough some days ~ like today. Kirby has a real bee in his bonnet & there will be Blood for Breakfast shortly.

Sandra said...

Allegra, memory is playing some tricks on you, but not entirely. The beasties keep me busy, the work is unending and there is more isolation than is good for me. And yet, the benefits outweigh the negatives.

Sandra said...

Ganeida, these silly rhymes pop into my head for no apparent reason. I was washing pots and pans and there it was, before my eyes. So I wrote the thing down! Perhaps Howard was pattering across the floor.

Two cats are enough for anyone, I think!

Leslie said...

oh, but i love this poetic slice of morning at your farm :)

Sandra said...

Leslie, thanks. Often morning on the farm is less than poetic, but it is always stimulating! My animals, large & small rule the day.

Unknown said...

Clever!
And I think there is poetry in the ordinary, the mess, the clamour, and the lyrical.
It's all life.

Sandra said...

Deb, you are a poet. I am a rhymer. Not anywhere in the same league. But thank you. : )