Best Farmyard Poems
Miles in a coaster, a day and hours elapsed,
Felt the utmost relief when the whirling wheels halted;
So weary and dizzy, even a smile seemed so hideous
But an in peace slumber I desperately craved for;
Eyes wide-opened at the chirping of euphonious birds,
Stirred myself with hankering for the glimpse of exquisite village,
But still a dawn blanketed in frosty mist, sight diminished,
I’d only steal the blurry scene of Tang valley;
An hour after, when the glorious sun showed its perky visage,
Outside I stood relishing the splendor of the hamlet
And savoring the icy breeze wafting underneath my nose
With succulent aroma from the Mother Nature;
Amidst undulating hills and mountains down lay a quiet place,
So called Tang enclosed by rich vegetation and iridescent river
That embellishes the heavenly place superfluously picturesque,
Enticing all man into the blissful homeland of Tang Valley;
Houses clustered and down beneath the farmyard,
Divine school stands with its pride upheld
And hallowed veneration anyone would esteem,
It is so-called Tang Central School elevated of late;
Established in 1965, primary to middle since last year,
Now shines the school proud and gratified of its new recognition
As the central school bestowed with prerogatives and autonomy,
And concurringly, rejoicing its Golden Jubilee in eons;
Postures upright like inert figurines in a park,
Crescendo of unripe singsong voices spring at eight and thirty,
Crooning the sincere words of praise and homage to Tsa-Wa-Sum
That infuses the all hearts with never like joie de vivre;
A trickle of erudite whizzes and astute greenhorns
Gathered deep delved into a bond of kinship with no antipathy,
But an unremitting fondness amongst solicitous brethren-
A purveyor of ecstasy as its depiction I call for the beautiful home.
Wandering the virtual
green fields of home,
I open the farmyard gate
fall into a haze of retrospect.
I see a “LMS Black Five” Locomotive
bellowing upon a utilized line,
ghostly sparks tantalizing
the embankment.
Below a paddock ploughed,
sown with scattered seed
to germinate this memory
of that time past.
I stroll the hoary lane
beneath a pale cold eve,
discover soft mist stirring
upon the low moor, in warps
of time, giving in to modernization.
Mile high bracken upon the Beacon
under a clementine moonlight,
in shadows drifting to and fro
like the tide upon the silken sea.
At the old cottage
in Sugar Hill,
I see a cut glass vase, sitting supreme
upon the polished surface
with rose, carnation and dahlias,
near by a collection of love
in all those wonderful bluebells
from Nesfield.
“In the old Jam Jar”
Entered 2022 Poetry Marathon mile 14 contest
Sponsor Mark Toney
13/9/2022
Facebook is a website we can talk and play
Many applications to while away the day
I have made many friends some new and old
Many conversations and stories are told
You are never lonely when you visit the site
You can stay there a minute or all the night
You can visit friends without leaving the room
If you go to work you can come back to it soon
There are many lovely people out there
People who love you people that care
If you have problems they will help if they can
Many groups set up so you can become a fan
Play games with friends and chat with them too
They will always be there on facebook for you
If you’re feeling down it won’t be for long
Friends cheer you up and you feel you belong
Hatchlings and smiles are little aps
Or a virtual farmyard for you perhaps
Kisses and pokes you send to your pals
There are aps for men and aps for the gals
A heart for close pals that goes down well
Most friends will like that i can tell
It’s a sign of friendship it means you care
You can talk to people anyplace, anywhere
So all you need is a pc that’s on-line
Friends will be there for you all the time
A place where friendship never ends
This is a tribute to my facebook friends
( To be sang to the tune of, " Steppin' Time "
From the musical Mary Poppins... )
( Rams )
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
How many girls will we meet this time?
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
( A Ewe )
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time.
Hey you girls, this Ram is mine!
And I think he's so divine!
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
( Another Ewe )
This one's strong and full of might.
He has speckles that are white.
And his " Baaa! " sounds just like mine!
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
( Rams )
Will our lambs be Ram or Ewe?
Will our sheep have one or two?
We must wait for nature too...
We must tuppin' til we're through!
( An Independent Ewe )
Well, those Rams can keep their place!
I won't fall for a square face!
" Tuppin's not for me! " I'll say.
If they come near, I'll run away!
( All Sheep x2 )
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
Baa ba baa baa baa baa baa!
Here's the farmer, tuppin' time!
Baa ba baa baa baa baa baa!
Poor old Chicken Licken's not the brightest little bird
Keeps coming up with theories that are clearly quite absurd
He got hit by an acorn, and to laugh would be a sin
But our little feathered friend believes, the sky is falling in
He’s running round the farmyard telling everyone his tale
“We must inform the government and do it without fail”
Rounding up some other birds to join him on his quest
Picking just the fittest, disregarding all the rest
The Goose and Turkey Lurkey led this brave deluded ring
As they marched into the night so they could go and tell the King
Poor old Chicken Lickens brain has really flown the coop
The way he carries on he’s going to end up in the soup
The cow was playing cowbells,
Giddy Goat joined in on his guitar,
The horse was hoofing bongo drums.
Animals started coming from afar.
The chicken clucked an egg out,
Pig was oinking right in time,
Duck was tinkling on her triangle
While dog was hammering on his chime.
Pussy picked up her piccolo,
Goose was flapping on his flute,
Donkey brayed on a big trombone,
It really was a farmyard hoot!
-more poems like this can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
a plump turkey struts
across the leaf filled farmyard--
smells cranberry sauce
Early Winter Farm Chores
Shall I muse at midnight on the morning sun
now hiding very far beyond the pale.
Dread farmyard chores needing to be done
as morn sun rises over hill and dale.
Warm in bed, staying would be a disgrace
when winter marches in far too soon.
Tarry late and hot glowing embers embrace
to rise late only in a lazy afternoon!
Or instead jump from this warm , soft bed
racing on out when red rooster crows.
Quickly getting pigs and chickens well fed
all long before the cold winter snows!
Up early before morning's sweet sunlight.
Another farming day, another long fight.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-01-2015
Note-- Edited an older poem from back in the 80's.
Shortened into a sonnet..
The coolest zoo to view
With an all-around great crew
The children are running
Tiger Mountain is stunning
Hear the tigers chuffing
See the parents huffing
At Bird World, people are pouring
To see the birds soaring
Take a ride on the monorail
Around the Wild Asia Trail
In the Children’s Zoo, oh what fun
To visit the farmyard in the sun
The Indian Gharials are basking
While the children keep asking
Little penguins are splashing
The cameras are flashing
The lion pride roars
And the snow owl soars
Ring tailed lemurs leaping
While the Fossas are creeping
A Snow Leopard on the prowl
A Gelada Baboon with a smile
Western lowland gorillas interact
While the Okapi families attract
Sea lions are flipping and diving
Zoo babies are growing and thriving
Monkeys are climbing and swinging
While their little babies are clinging
The lambs and red hens UNSUPPORTED CODE
play in the fields all around UNSUPPORTED CODE
the busy farmyard UNSUPPORTED CODE
How will it be to have freed the weak
to stand as their sword, to carry their shield
how will it be to see their tremble revealed.
Imperialist power court with cheek
the downtrodden fools whose wealth they all seek.
America, Russia, China concealed
that their help came with poisoned wells and fields
that the air can burn, the fish die in creeks
ask 'Nam how freedom was bought and brought.
Go to Tibet, feel the Communist zeal
the temples they have felled make farmyard walls.
Have the strong helped the weak, power's begot
pain, let the weak grow strong, let them not kneel,
if you ask for help, the wolf hears your calls.
"Fattening up time" the wall calendar read
which meant only one thing to old farmer Ted
Christmas was coming and there's money to be made
you see the bigger the bird the more he'd be paid
He'd saved up all year and bought high quality feed
to ensure that his flock was the best he could breed
So this year Ted's turkeys would be the tastiest in town
and the best biggest birds would bring more bucks per pound
Last Christmas one turkey was the luckiest bird
You see she was too small to be sold, so her death was deferred
and being the braniest of birds ever born on the farm
meant she could outsmart farmer Ted instead of coming to harm
Whilst Farmer Ted fed her friends to fatten the flock
she counted her calories to avoid the chopping block
And as Ted's children had played, their fondness had grown
for "Tiny Tina the turkey", as she was affectionately known
This year she told other turkeys of why they were bred
"they'll feed you and fatten you and then cut off your head
and then stuff and roast you and on you they'll be fed"
The head turkey was horrified and asked "what could they do"
"should we run and hide or hold a farmyard coup?"
"Don't worry" replied Tina "I've hatched a plan so daring"
"I'm convinced it won't fail cos I've spent the last year preparing"
So she told the turkeys her plan of what she had devised
"We'll fool the farmer this year by going disguised"
"I've collected wool from the sheep for the perfect scam
and made us costumes to wear as part of my plan
to avoid the oven this year if disguised as a lamb"
Next day the farmer was up with the cracking of dawn
and couldn't believe what he saw as he stepped out on his lawn
No turkeys in sight, he could see none around
and after searching his farm, none could be found
He stood in his farmyard scratching his beard
wondering how all his turkeys could have just disappeared
and why were his lambs walking with a waddle?
and instead of a bleat they spoke with a gobble!
after all the idiots who followed Camping
found themselves up ****’s crick
after May of 2011 &
after all the morons hoping & “praying”
that they would get a “get out of life free” card
with the ending of the Mayan calendar
just a little more than a week ago,
discussion has already begun to loom,
spewing forth like the foulest vomit
(outdoing even lil’ Linda Blair’s projectile in
“The Exorcist”)
from the mouths of these
apocalyptophobiacs,
who cannot go to sleep at night,
unless they are counting repeating images of
Nostradamus,
hopping over the farmyard fence
with the rest of the
sheep.
yes fans,
the batshit****ingnuts of the world
have begun to spin their minds like a top,
panicking about “solar flares in 2013,”
“robots taking over the world in 2030,”
“Prof. Cunningham’s time capsule
predicting biological weapons eliminating
us all in 2016” & of course, our favorite
fictional character with his flowing blond hair,
blue eyes & ability to walk on water,
he’s supposed to be returning sometime to
“fight satan,” um, just as he has been
supposed to for, um,
quite some time…
but those avid readers of Jeane Dixon
will be waiting for 2020,
when “satan” & “jesus” fight for the big
heavyweight title…um,
but supposedly he has a window of 17 years
to arrive in the ring,
so, this writer certainly hopes that “satan”
brings a book or an ipod or some jax or
something, cause’ ****,
he’s got a while.
and then there’s the jewish end-seekers who
abide by the talmud’s 6000 year lifespan of the world…
and then there’s the numerology numbskulls
who are counting up how many times “allah” shows up
in the qur’an &
on &
on &
on &
on,
until these people are
scratching out their eyes
because they can’t stop twitching in fear
of
something happening at
some time, some place in the
future,
when they are
ALL DEAD---
DEAD
DEAD
DEAD---
just like the rest of us,
so,
this is an ode,
a salute to those who
are sick to ****ing death of
these people who will not embrace the
fact that their lives will not end in any grandiose,
metaphysically charged,
special, or unique kind of way---
hoorah.
Farmyard Chat.
Cluck, cluck says Mrs Hen as the farmyard comes to life.
Moo, moo says Big Brown Cow as she spots the farmers wife.
AH, she'll be coming a milking then send us out to graze
with Sheep as they awake from sleep
it's how we spend our days.
Oink, oink says Big Fat Pig, at least you're out all day.
I'm stuck here in this pigsty with muck to wallow in and play.
Moo, moo says Big Brown Cow, why do you complain
at least you have a shelter if it begins to rain.
Baa,baa the Sheep awake and farmer shouts, Bess come yield.
She's the dog that guides us out the farmyard to top field.
All day we'll stay cows with sheep will graze.
No matter what the weather is like, we're sometimes left for days.
But we hear the hens a clucking and squawking on the farm
tractor toiling all day long turning soil as seeds they sow
but that's just farmyard life the only life we know.
From Baa, Baa Sheep, Cluck, Cluck Hen, Oink,Oink Pig
and Moo,Moo Big Brown Cow.
haiku – senryu
JUST THINKING
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life... rife...
some strife...
it's reality
not all life is fun
get with reality
heed natures warnings
love thy neighbor
turn the other cheek
let peace prevail
no news today
for my peace of mind
how do others cope
rhetoric... why...
when quietness would suffice
have we forgot peace...
spring grass growing
near ready for cropping
ewes with early lambs
gamboling... a leap
the meadows hosting livestock
grasshoppers singing
the farmyard... alive
swallows... in and out of barns
their owls wait till dusk
dusk... bats out hunting
hedgehogs... door mice... meadow life...
dawn.. farmer makes hay
summer... watching... waits
springtime... explodes... fruition
Glastonbury raves
there is life on mars
why... did you drop it...
bacteria play too
birds can fly the sky
viruses can fly as well
no... not flew... flu
Jack and Jack
not as nature intended
but they are happy
my thoughts on paper
all spontaneous writing
think before you speak
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