A connoisseur of delicious or Johnathan apples? Queried my mom.
I had never considered her a connoisseur of either, I said with aplomb.
I knew her as Apple Jenny, she was a crone with a mission to learn.
I watched over her closely as she made her warm apple butter churn.
A scholarly woman, a sage wild woman who knew her own mind.
She was empathetic, casual, down-to-earth, pleasant and kind.
The Object Lesson
Written: By Miracle Man
3/15/2019
In minutes the tornado had abandoned the scene,
Undisturbed, was a borrowed, glass Butter churn.
Still sitting on the treadle of her old sewing machine,
Placed there awaiting an opportune time for return.
In the yard, what remained, of the trunk of a tree,
Bed springs wrapped around it, as if made that way.
As a testament of God's power for the throngs to see,
In nature, HIS power, was once again on display.
Farm boys, farm boys, go and do your chores
Better take your hat for it’s sunny out-of-doors
Farm boys, farm boys, gotta milk those cows
Milk-em twice a day and feed the hungry sows
Make your mother butter in the butter churn
Argue with your brother when you think it’s not your turn
Measure off the distance you both will have to run
Where it is you’ll need to go to get the milking done
Toe the mark to challenge your brother at the gate
Divvy up the pails to balance out the weight
Farm boys being farm boys down there on the farm
And you’ll milk the cows if I beat you to the barn
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