Passion Farm Poems

Ammonia-ed clumps of damp, dunged straw
forked onto her cold barrow, then rolled outside.
Across the field where her ninety pounds
thrust up the dray atop a mulching...

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JANUARY VIRGIN AT THE OUTHOUSE DOOR
Not much of light, the cold had settled in,
and made for her, sweet Laura of the farm,
the quick of flight,...

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I am Jack and I live on a farm,
was born in the barn one of many;
oh, I am the only cat with charm,
but my best...

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Myth, after Dylan Thomas
by Michael R. Burch

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of...

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Growing up on God's impoverishing family farm,
he learned to hide his work
in tissues of unearthly privacy.

Regenerating in Earth's richly resonant nutrition,
she recovered her playful avocations
in...

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Ruby Farms, farm of the sunset,
With a blooming riot of roses,
Is at the shadow of indigo night-
The hour of the deepest color!
The hues are intense...

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Theology is insufficient for spiritual experience
because systematic theory offers no satisfactory substitute
for a hug.

I was far too young
to understand how I am different
from white patriarchal...

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I sketch, and the lead lightly
                   ...

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the farmer
master of his kingdom
when not feeling the serf



posted on August 3, 2018...

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One suspects a matagouri temperament
Upon first glimpsing that weathered face.
Wrinkles extending like braided rivers
Life of tussles and toils, to demonstrate.

No stranger to heat or an...

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Why does dawn dress robust morning,
while dusk undresses sight?
Each dawn incarnates another Earth Day
a lifetime of Easter mornings 
redeeming nocturnal sight's revolution,
another therapeutic day of...

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The sun emerge from its hide, smiling bright and it glide
Promising a fine stay, for those who toil by the day
Oaks surround the landscape, as...

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This long awaited date - 
a hoedown it’s to be 
shy smiles as we head in 
we touch hands nervously 

We allemande left and do-si-do...

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Milroy Farm
11-30-08
By
William L. Moore
For
William McCracken Milroy

Sitting in my Deer stand
Upon my Uncles land
Feel the simple breeze
As it whispers through the trees

Waiting for the Deer
Not a...

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There's an antique red barn
Sits atop the hill
And a small little pond
Chock full of blue-gill 

There's old rusty cars
Which haven't ran in years
And a hundred...

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