Best Alfalfa Poems
It has stood for decades along the county gravel road.
Skittering mice and barn owls now call it their abode.
What was once a stately building is now a shambles,
Surrounded by barren fields and prickly brambles.
Where once its weather-boarding was a bright cherry-red,
Due to the ravages of time, they're now a silvered-gray instead.
Yet can be seen a faded Mail Pouch Tobacco sign on its weathered side,
And a rusty weather-vane twisting in the wind, though a bit cockeyed!
Seasons of howling gales have striven to raze its sturdy oaken beams,
But they've held the old barn together though straining at its seams.
Its cavernous lofts once abounded with fragrant alfalfa hay,
That provided children a playground on many a rainy day.
It sheltered horses, sheep and cattle on frigid winter nights,
And for lack of electricity, it was lit by flickering lantern lights.
It was built when neighbors helped neighbors who were skilled,
At wielding hammer and saw and cherished great pride in their guild.
(The old barn of which I speak still stands on Indiana's Farmers' Pike,
Where I spent many happy times as an unassuming Hoosier tyke!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Was Selected as Poem Of The Day by Soup 26 July 2016
He was small and portly but their leader
didn't want anyone in the club being a cheater
with everyones full attention while seated
he reiterated his drastic thoughts and feelings,
Explaining to his buddies to steer clear
of the feminine gender some held dear
saying they were just a pain in the neck
so just to ignore them he told them was best,
The meeting was adjourned and Spanky closed the door
straightening his "Women Haters Club" sign once more
with Alfalfa feeling confident he wouldn't cave in
till Darla started flirting with him once again….
5-16-17
My cabin is pretty in the early morning
When the dew lights up on the grass and leaves
And when the sun shines high in the great blue sky
I can see the crops rippling in the gentle breeze
All the things I planted with a plow and hoe
Wheat, corn, and alfalfa, you can watch ‘em grow
That’s all real nice, but my favorite time of all
Is when the harvest comes in and the orange leaves fall
From the majestic oak in my big front yard
And I can sit on the porch after working good ‘n hard
Watch a burning red sunset mixed with pearly streaks of gray
Knowing I’ve done a swell job, I’ve put in a full day
Then when the pale lamplight fades to quiet of night
Think I’ll lie on the lawn and watch the stars wink away
Until the harvest moon shines on the close shorn fields
Just might stay until the dawn beams bright
‘Cause my cabin is pretty in the early morning
When the dew lights up on the grass and leaves…
[Written on the 3d of August]
Kissed by the sun, sweet alfalfa in waving oceans that
Animals adore when dried into golden hay.
Noon breaks enjoying lunch under an ancient oak with
Songs from the wayward wind for company.
A tire swing hanging in wait for school to be out
Shares mem’ries of new born calves romping in the meadows.
Each wonderful season in Kansas holds an enchanted delight,
But heavenly scented lilacs in spring time let my soul take flight.
Today my hair had a mind of its own,
being in the static electricity zone,
put in some mousse,
still looked uncouth,
walking around like an Alfalfa clone.
11-17-16
Estephania was the Spanish horse,
with a chestnut coat and mane
and a lighter long tail...and she ate
alfalfa for strong teeth and bones.
She was domesticated, losing her liberty
and neighing she showed keen ability:
to spot dangers on a perilous path...
Estefania even stopped for a stranded cat.
In summertime she fed mostly on grass,
but bees stung her many times to protest,
and struggling to get them off her tail...
she hit a shrilling raven in the head.
And feeling sorry for the dying bird wincing,
Estefania licked his semi-open eyes...giving
him a little comfort as he folded his wings;
and whinnying she wept a river of tears.
An unsophisticated feller attending an auction could find himself in a pickle!
The nuances, subtleties and gestures used in bidding could cost him a pretty nickel!
A city feller decided to attend a farm auction to see what it was all about.
Alas, he accumulated a heap of needless stuff before he could figure it out!
He was fascinated by the tractor, manure spreader, horses, hogs and cows,
And the chickens, goats, manure forks and hay to be auctioned in the mows!
The auctioneer began his alien spiel and the feller couldn't understand a word,
But farmers in overalls and John Deere caps knew exactly what they heard!
Bidding began on an old steel-wheeled 1925 Model D over-used John Deere.
The feller watched others offer their bids as he reached to scratch his ear.
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the man scratchin' his ear over by the fence!"
He was the stunned owner of a tractor - it happened so fast he didn't have a chance!
Next up for bid were a fancy chamber pot, two horse collars and fifty feet of hose.
The feller in all innocence swatted at a pesky fly that had landed on his nose!
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the guy who swatted his nose for fifty dollars!
Son, you got a steal! That's an antique thunder mug and so is them there collars!"
The auctioneer opened bidding for twenty bales of newly cut alfalfa hay.
The feller was distracted for a moment and waved at a pal across the way.
"SOLD" said the auctioneer, "Please write a check for this stuff to my able aide!"
The hapless guy was wondering how he'd explain to his spouse the purchases he'd made!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
.
The mirror surely lied this day
There's an Alfalfa cowlick here
Just a little teasing_hairspray
Oh! sidecomb over this left ear
I always reckoned I could cook, great tucker for me need,
yet the kids and missus turn their heads, when I serve up a feed.
Now the wife has joined weight watchers! She reckons she’s obese,
so she won’t cook a single thing with sugar, salt or grease.
There’s no bacon, chops and frying eggs; our milk is only lite.
I looked forward to chips and chiko rolls every Friday night,
now when I sit down at the table, I can only shake me head,
there on the plate is rabbit’s food and no butter on me bread.
And for a bloke whose tooth is sweet, she done an awful sin.
I watched her clear the lolly jar, into the wheely bin.
The sugar canister’s a longing sight, as empty as can be.
She said, “There’s no need for sugar!” So I must drink black tea.
Two weeks I took this torture when my taste buds want to tackle,
Some crispy burnt chicken skin and the saltiest pork crackle.
With tingling nerves on edge, she served up salad once again!
I took one look and quivered, then lost leave of me brain.
I placed me hand below the bowl, then tipped it on her head.
I yelled to her if this is food, then I might as well be dead!
Lite oil dribbled down her face; tomato seeds stuck to her ears,
shreds of carrot laced her hair; alfalfa wrapped asparagus spears.
Did she do the flamin’ ‘cruet’. At first it was the glare,
then like a tiger pouncing, she left her kitchen chair.
I never saw her for three days. On the fourth I caught a fleeting sight.
You see I was now recovering. Me left eye was opening just a mite.
Doctors told the old farmer his soul was soon to be his Makers!
"Spare me, Lord", he pled, "I must farm these hundred-forty acres!
My wife ain't able to hoe or mow or handle the old John Deere!
The place will go to hell (er, 'scuse me, Lord), that is what I fear!"
"The threshin' crew is comin' next week to reap the wheat and oats.
Grain prices will plunge, the radio man says in his daily quotes.
The barn needs paintin' and the roof needs repairin' too.
All this and the mortgage on the old place is way overdue!"
"In the garden there's taters, termaters and carrots to weed.
It's hay makin' time and I fear the alfalfa will go to seed.
Them thievin' birds and squirrels will rob me of my apple crop.
I ain't a drinkin' man, Lord, but right now I could use a drop!"
"The punkins is ripe for pickin' and the corn's ready for shuckin'.
The cattle stalls is heaped full and they really need a muckin'.
My chicken coops need fixin' and a real good cleanin' out.
Lord, I'm in a heap of trouble, of that there ain't no doubt!"
"There's twenty guernseys to milk, who's gonna take care of that?
There's them hogs to fatten up to sell and I want 'em good and fat.
The sheep needs shearin' and a dozen goats need milkin' too.
Lord, have mercy! I just ain't ready yet to rendezvous with You!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
He sidles up next to you,
so stealthily
It’s like he appeared out of thin air
Then breathlessly,
he gives you a Jimmy Stewart howdy do,
and starts air guitaring in his chair
Just when you were on the verge of
hitting the right vibe
with a cute little honey thing
This joker Jack Nicholson clone
starts shining on and on
And in your dark Alfalfa heart,
you wish this Spanky bag of bones
would be poof ... Aladdin gone
But you don’t wanna waste
one of your three date wishes on him,
so you ignore this glib talking Jungle Jim
In the meanwhile,
that pretty little woman is beginning to idly yawn,
as the flirtations have come to a tepid halt
That seven digit rooster ain’t gon strut come dawn,
a cell phone dropped call won’t be at fault
As Annoyous Interruptus cackles in your ear,
your road rage accelerator hits the sixth gear
But you remain calm, keeping your wits intact ...
trying to give him a subtle hint with a nodded wink
You motion for him to skedaddle away,
but Pepe Le Pew seems intent to stay
You mutter to yourself: man, does his cologne stink
With dull, blank eyes giving you a Lost in Space stare,
you flee swiftly, leaving love empty ... but you don’t care
Annoyous Interruptus
causes premature evacuation
Pester Interfereus
is the bane of dating stimulation
Annoyous Interruptus
makes flaccid all of your romantic overtures
Pester Interfereus
has caused many a late-night social club wars
While closing my eyes, I return once again
to an image that nestles at the foot of the mountains
Snow crowns San Jacinto as it shadows the valley
I am there as a child in the house with white shutters
Red brick and mortar, and siding like butter
A southern front porch, is facing the hills
There are tall amber trees, and a stream, I recall,
somewhere that wanders, like a dream to remember
Bits and pieces are kept in a keepsake I've held
They filter on down to shelter me now,....
To wrap me in comfort, when I dwell in the dark
grieving for loved ones, who were there at the start.
When the chill of the winter, or those sleepless nights, tossing,
fills me with losses, that shadow the moon...
I'll see grassy knolls, and bright alfalfa acres,
A house and a barn framed with painted white fences
The house unpretentious, where yards need attention
Mist skimming the water, ducks swim in the pond
A small corral… my Dad, dressed in Levi's…
and a pitchfork, in hand, holds sweet golden hay
A barn, and twin stalls, a red chicken house,
a clothes line, where white sheets are bleached by the sun
The house is alive, morning bacon is frying,
Mom is listening while cooking, to a radio show
Clattering of dishes, and the chattering soap stars
fills the kitchen with sunshine, like a breath of fresh air
Warm are the colors, resembling butter
Wallpaper borders in bright, happy yellow.
There are echoes I hear, of a house in the night,
Comforting sounds of a room in the dark
My cat nestled close, at the foot of my bed
where I'm wrapped in the memory of that place where I lived
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9/16/15
Surrounded by seas of green, grassy waves,
my antenna is tuned to the hum of the bees
Alfalfa grows here, with a nectar so pure
that it takes me again to the shore of a field
I dream of the child who grew up near the rows
where my arms and my legs are rolling down hills
It tickles my skin, and the pollen begins to
take all the spin out of me !
All the bees scatter 'round in a world going wild,
and have stained green, my shins and my knees.
I pluck a long stem, it tastes semisweet,
yet, the bitterness still lingers on.
From my head to my feet, I can't rest in defeat,
as sound from the sprinklers resound like the breeze
They lull me to sleep Tssss......
Tssss......
Tsssss
I lie under the sky, and the dream never dies
While the wild nest of bees, swarm over my head
I am lead to my childhood again
Bzzzzz......
Bzzzzz.......
Bzzzzz......
Bzzzzz.......
Bzzzzzzzzzz.....
.Bz
__________________________________________________
9/28/16
Contest judged 9/29/16
Used the following required words:
antenna, waves, sky, breeze, nectar, and pollen
Resubmitted for Contest: Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please 2
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Wrestling in kitten-covered lawns,
Driving through your potato heart,
What did we begin?
When did we start?
Smoothing into your pixilated hair,
Bending into the fields with angels,
Why have we softened?
Where are the angles?
Ambrosia Wednesdays, Alfalfa Tuesdays,
Send me your message in big, bright colors.
How have we forgotten?
Who now sits in our old parlors?
earth
peace
give it a chance
tie-dye t-shirts
modern dance
macrame
and beaded chokers
woodstock
and pot smokers
flower power
zpg
alfalfa sprouts
herbal tea
burning draft cards
American flags
Vietnam bodies
coming home in bags
Kent
Augusta
Jackson state
Detroit Black Panthers
waking up too late
Oh Angela
Oh Beatles
Oh Martin Luther King
gratitude to all of you
for this special thing