Winter Farm Poems

Three kids to a bed, two beds to a room, three 
rooms crowded with flannel long johns and wool 
socks. If I was lucky enough...

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AI POEMS

These are poems about AI (Art-ificial Intelligence) and poems about science.

The AI Poets
by Michael R. Burch

The computer-poets stand hushed
except for the faint hum
of their...

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Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve,
special days filled with festive charm.
When family and friends all gather together,
for a winter’s holiday on the farm.

Old and young folks...

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Wet foggy morning,
a shy daylight wakes me up with the birds music.
The cats heard my voice, they call me to have their breakfast. 
Before my...

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The dry, frayed ends of autumn, the garden 
charred by successive waves of night frosts, 
the scent of wild grapes in the air.

Outside the kitchen’s...

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It’s quite a thing to lay a life to rest,
to place rocks over roots rotten with age,
cover leaves once green with soil, sodden from rain.

Conceived...

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In his weary hour
The legumes blossom on time;
Out of jocundity in honour
Of the beautiful turf
The drowsy peasant peak.

His weird blistered palm blimey,
 His nasty regalia...

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Beneath billowing sack cloth tent 
An auctioneer jibber-jabbers his words.
Below his red mahogany dais
Sit Fifty Amish American women and girls.
Black-bonnet-ed, bidder-number in hand, 
they chirp...

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The Clock
David J Walker

Remember when 
	The seed was planted 
And you thought then 
	It must have been 
A clock
	And it was

Remember seeing the 
Rays of...

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This year the farmers are celebrating
the greatest full moon harvest 
they ever had in the past hundred years
with a special field they sowed
to be reaped...

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Aunt June

My aunt taught me... 
how to be; a sewer, a grower, 
a knower of "things" important. 
She taught me to watch the pot, 
until...

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My Garden

The dirt calls to me. 
The seeds are waiting. 
I need to pray before I begin. 
Nothing will grow right, 
unless I do this....

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It was at grandads old farm one winter we did freeze 
the snow was so high it reached up to our knees 
even the cows...

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Twenty Pints of Sunshine
David J Walker

It seemed to be the only thing 
In abundance on the farm
The light and heat
	The shine so bright
Long days 
short...

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The wind whistled a chilly tune,
As the day slipped toward a grey horizon.
Flocks of blackbirds darkened the autumn sky.
The quail's shrill call could be heard...

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