Barn Poems - Poems about Barn

Are gay jockeys fruit of the loom when riding a race on the course, and would they need the helping hand of a leg-up to get on their high horse? Would a long-faced horse, a sourpuss, not wanting to be a player, bolt the barn door or be a neigh-sayer? If a broke cowboy saddled with a nag, a dark horse of a different colour that's *****, were...

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barn owl snowy roof skeletal trees night watcher in moments hunter...

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The Chevy speeds by eyesight pings it, a reflexive vision momentarily catches itself looking back. The barn is vacant, not empty, its eyes have been locked open, it bathes in sparrow and bat time. Now hollow lids capture, snatch at a headlong flight of vision. A snap of fleeting attention has stabled a glance in a timeless stall where dust hangs in a slant of suspended light. Road barn...

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Evening walk on Barn Hill Loved this road, up to Fryent Country Park So quiet, very friendly, silence is the air here It gives an open way into an ancient life up This road is a way to a new world, another life From the presence of the past, we live there far This land, this world is an atmosphere; no...

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Looking around with my mind/ With remote viewing/ I see a lady/ She turn on/ Her computer screen/ She beams and smiles/ At the red barn/ On her computer screen/ I smile with her/ Because, I understand life/...

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I thank the sun ... The soil, the summer rain, I thank the apple tree The fields of golden grain I thank the corn crops And the pumpkin patch, I thank the warm barn Where new poults hatch I thank Tom turkey ... From down on the farm, And the good old farmer Who caused him no harm I thank the potato fields And the pecan...

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While the milk cow hastens Toward a worn barn, Gray as the edges of melancholy, Erasing the spring, breaking through Summer Like Sunday, wearing her best suit Rustling on the wings of Saturday’s robins, Starving for Monday, while her words Still the grief that comes from knowing The week behind her will not come Again, peppering the wind With grace and love, Intense as the...

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barn swallows flying in and around covered porch..... sonar practice time ...

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calf's fed from bottles summers of baling hay bales playing in hayloft...

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Her wild barn owl fantasy started in the middle of the night But while she was dreaming, two boys came into sight One was carrying a teddy bear, which was trailing behind. Don’t lose your baby! I called out, for this dream was mine! ...

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Once it was colored an autumnal red now it is a russet prop for the sunset. The land has stacked evening around it, mellow dusks have laid down decades, of plowed-up shadows. Seen against an ebbing horizon, the barn blooms beyond its timbers, its fading form fills-in the blush of a half-painted sky. ...

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belly hanging down over beer cans strewn everywhere...

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Filtered sunlight swirls through weathered cracks in the walls a winter haven Cat lays in the hay licking kittens as they drink ...

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I have seen masks that give me a fright But the barn owl masks are truly not right They turn the warriors into crying babies. Running away as if we all have rabies. The barn owl masks are spooky for sure. They have scared the Trojans and Aztecs pure. We think this is why the Mayans ran away. Have you seen them?...

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New webs spreading in my past years that remain in the barn. An old barn that witnessed our games of a childhood reflected in a mirrow showing the faces of happiness. Spread webs turned into a nightmare. Not easy to remember the old barn where I used to play. Not easy to remember my old friends jumping on the dry grass kept in the...

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