Barn Poems - Poems about Barn

Barn Swallows

swallows'
cobalt blue glistens 
as they dart catching insects
at dawn against foggy creek rise
freedom to be alive

Murder in the Red Barn

A couple soon to be said newly wed,
yet swiftly snuck behind the family’s back
to swear the vow inside th’old shack,
quick forgot’n, buried a secret dread; 

A reek awaftin’ out a country shed
left long and fast behind by Spring-heeled Jack,
the stench o’ rot stinkin’ from a sack
discovers a soiled corpse ‘n’a mangled head;

Well…, they ‘was a

Hobson's Choice - A Verbal Paradox

Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631)
in 19th century late
a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier
set his priorities straight
he owned a livery stable
of 40 Hackney horses or more
plus boots bridles and whips
and put the horse the cart before
after the animal left the barn
by bolting fast the door
and as precautionary balm
the nag nearest the stable gate
the worn-out equine storm to

Horse Sense

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

barn owl

barn owl snowy roof
skeletal trees night watcher
in moments hunter

Old Barn Seen from a Speeding Car

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

Evening walking on Barn Hill

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

I Understand

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/

I Thank

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

Milk Hewn Lives

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

barn

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

just an old barn

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

her barn owl fantasy

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!

Red Barn

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.

Behind the Barn

  belly hanging 
  down over
  beer cans
  strewn
  everywhere

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