Grandpa's Farm

I have fond memories of grandpa's farm, deep in a valley with a stream nearby; it really was not a working farm. but my grandpa's dream fulfilled. He had horses (my favorite), but there was also one donkey called Fred; and some cows and lots of chickens, cluck, cluck, cluck, I liked to feed them; and gather the eggs for grandma. It was a cozy little farmhouse, and my bed was in the attic with a view; I could see the sun rise each morning, and would go picking wildflowers in the fields. In winter grandpa took us on a sleigh ride, with his horses pulling us through the forest; and grandma would make us hot chocolate, and bake us cookies for our return. This is a memory of my childhood, precious! _____________________________ December 3, 2019 Poetry/Pastoral/Grandpa's Farm Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1205-029-02 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Written for FGI Blog Series - Bucolic Brian Strand Podium Place 1