Harry Horsman Poet Free verse

On Any One Day

(An Addingham Poem)

Clashes of old tainted galvanised buckets
against the stone flags daily ring out across the manor farm yard,
profanity given proficiently if the swine catches Father off guard.
Lusty teats await emancipation of release ‘Friesians’ frolic in resolution,
‘Pete’ the old boss Bull awaits the dawning the perfect scene for evolution.
The purple haze of Rombald’s moor embraces the horizon
while the aging grey ‘Cat-steps’ hide within the mist,
yet sparkle with dew in the sunlight.
David, the youngest in the family given to shepherding,
some lambs endure many a bastard day, here springtime never early.
The plough a relic of the nineteen thirty’s cuts through the soil
like a knife through butter, till it unearths a boulder, and Joe is not best pleased,
expletive aggression does not fix the problem, but his brother Abe does.
Magpie and Crow recipient to all that exist, as long as it does not move,
screaming Owls grace the heathland, their screech complementing
the never-ending whistling winds.
Come what may, farming a commitment
a promise a guardian to their yacker* of God’s earth.

© Harry J Horsman 2021

*Yacker   Old Yorkshire for acre

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Anil Deo January 6, 2022 at 10:54 PM Happy new year my Friend. I just posted Posted POSTED posted pOsTeD postED a poem: Dance of Genesis. Universe sent this msg

Valsa George December 18, 2021 at 4:41 AM Farming in times before mechanization was indeed a task and people of the soil had laborious days to eke out a living. "The plough a relic of the nineteen thirty’s cuts through the soil like a knife through butter," This brings in a lot of childhood memories of having watched farmers preparing the paddy fields. Beautiful poem harry !

Andrea Dietrich November 13, 2021 at 9:57 AM Just came by to say hi. Hope to see a new poem from you soon, Harry

Jennifer Proxenos November 8, 2021 at 10:12 AM Farming is THE most risky venture in the world even more than the stock exchange, but it brings with it a healthy living - farming is so dependent on climatic conditions. I don't know too much about farming but I am certain it brings joy, newness of life and, great attachment to nature and its elements as you have so expertly described with your intense wording and vivid descriptions. An excellent write my friend. Your poems are amazing. Hugs and blessings, Jennifer.

Mandy Tams The Golden Girl November 7, 2021 at 1:41 AM although only a child when I lived in a farming community, this brings back the memories crashing back xx

Anil Deo November 6, 2021 at 10:02 AM Love it, Sir Harry. Start made me think of ANIMAL FARM, but the rest of this CONTRIBUTION to British (Farm) ways (Traditions) just glows with comprehensive portraiture. shalom, shalom and THANK U 4 every THING

Paula Goldsmith November 5, 2021 at 9:58 AM What a wonderful story/write. I loved your ending. Yes, farming is a real commitment so we can eat. Have a blessed day...............

Susan Lawrence November 4, 2021 at 1:14 PM Harry You totally transported me to another place and time . Through your descriptions and your words and the influence of the language of the day . A hard life of toil … and a beauty to all of it as well . Hugs to you and all the best , Sussn :)

M. L. Kiser November 3, 2021 at 2:35 PM I like this, great flow and imagery; I can see it unfolding.

Besma Riabi Dziri November 3, 2021 at 12:59 AM You have just empowered an Artist brush to render portraits and landscapes! An adept brush dipped into an expressive poetic glossary and an impressive poetic sensitivity! A great delight to read your so wonderful poetry, Harry! My deepest regards and blessings.

Andrea Dietrich November 1, 2021 at 12:40 PM This is beautiful Writing, Harry. So descriptive of the difficult farm life.

Sara Kendrick October 31, 2021 at 4:27 AM I enjoyed reading this one. It is a very creative and expressive work. I could see the scene like I was there. Not much land to farm and try to support a family though. Maybe just a metaphor for the farm. Thanks for the visit to my page. Sara

Judy Ball October 30, 2021 at 1:24 PM This is excellent Harry. I could see the early morning duties of those that lived there. Hear the lowing of the cows and the rooster crowing. Reminds me of home when I was a little girl. Good Stuff. God Bless, JB

Evelyn Judy Buehler October 30, 2021 at 8:44 AM Harry, your imagery shines beautifully in this rustic portrayal of a day on the farm. A marvelous creation! :)

Bj Legros Kelley October 30, 2021 at 2:34 AM My romantic tendencies in childhood from the Ginn Readers we read in school made me dream of living on a farm. My dad took the family on a trip back east to visit family, and to stay on my uncles farm. Wow! We little ones even had to wake early and do chores before breakfast, that was a working vacation for sure. My uncle and cousins and aunt worked very hard every day to keep everything on that farm running like a well oiled machine. A lot of hard work. I love your poem, brought back memories!

L Milton Hankins October 29, 2021 at 11:37 AM Wow...in my opinion this is a masterpiece of idyllic imagery. Fantastic writing, harry.

Mystic Rose Rose October 29, 2021 at 9:48 AM And there the spirit grew, illumined by sweat and dirt, until the sky said enough, then at night when the stars shone on the little town, a little boy sighed and slept, nicely written Harry, inside of you the boy sleeps, still awake from the experience, :)

Jan Allison October 29, 2021 at 7:00 AM incredible imagery Harry i grew up on a smallholding but this poem really makes me visualise how hard they toiled on a farm. I especially love 'The plough a relic of the nineteen thirty’s cuts through the soil like a knife through butter, till it unearths a boulder, and Joe is not best pleased, it reminds me of a poem the kids study at school:-) hugs Jan xx

Vijay Pandit October 29, 2021 at 5:59 AM Any one day--a brilliant portrait of hard work on a farm-- dedicated to simple life--the imagery takes back to yore in a small town. So well illustrated, Harry.

Victor Buhagiar October 29, 2021 at 1:21 AM Memories of old times when work was true hardship. Lovely poem.

Tom Cunningham October 29, 2021 at 1:11 AM Stunning imagery Harry, back then working on the farm 24.7 was damn hard work. So much easier now with all the modern equipment. Have heard some of the bigger farms use drones to check livestock and crops, don't have to get out of bed. Tom