Farmer Poems | Examples

what now the farmer asked his wife

grumpy vegetables came marching over the hill to do their best.
They had heard of a weird new rule they wanted to contest.
Radishes and carrots were to stay in one bin, away from the potatoes.
But where did that leave the lettuce, turnips, parsley and tomatoes?

They came in with faces full of angry gloomy thunder clouds.
Ready to wrestle with anyone, their expressions dour as shrouds.
The farmer saw them coming and said what now? To his wife.
She rolled her eyes, said “I’ve got this,” and took out a paring knife.

Thoughts of a Banana Farmer

Now I

want to be a banana 
plant, swinging in the wind,
free from the knots of debt.

The shards of dreams won’t wound
me again. Ever. I’ll never be hunted
by the loan sharks with serrated teeth. The 
weevil thought cannot perforate the corm of my peace.

Away from the waves of suicide, I’ll live–listening to the
Asian koel. I can decipher that song. Someone may drop 

nutritious love into my heart; my roots will be wet 
with kindness. My cigar leaf can grow straight
into the light. The blossoming of

altruism will come out, opening my 
skull– budding. My end is made 
serene- calm, by the cogitation

of my fruitful

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*First published in Native Skin.
*Reprinted in The Literary Hatchet.
*Poetry Nook Weekly Contest Winner.

A Genocide

Kill the Boer, kill the farmer

A song sung in a stadium by thousands

Reverberating a chorus of spine-chilling fear

A call to incite hatred and violence

Tomorrow, we mourn - another farmer



Umshini wami (my machine gun)

Paralysing fear runs through your soul

To wipe out the Boer and the farmer

A call to genocide, they cajole

Rat-a-tat, see how they run



There is no defence against this genocide

You must die, self-defence is a crime

Hundreds and thousands of crosses, erected

For the innocent these numbers climb

The Boer and Farmer in death abide.

The Echo Returns Not

A farmer ploughs his field,
And sows the quality seed,
Expecting a bumper yield.
He is so ambitious in deed!
The minimum support price,
He fails to get for his produce,
Instead receives many an advice.
Finally, found hanging to a noose!

His Echo Returns Not!!

A bride as a spouse,
In mind with many a hope,
Enters her in-laws house!
With them, she can’t cope!
For her to rejoice her married life,
There, she finds not an iota of scope!
She is denied her status of a wife,
For everything she gets a ‘nope’!

Her Echo Returns Not!!

Feed the folk, this rulings a joke'

Andrew Cooper farmer of the land, of Croyde Devon; in old
England decided he'd plough some fields again? as the sun was shining through the English rain, yet some eco-loonies including a judge? hit him with fines and orders and they don't want to
Want to budge.' O K he remted it to the relic's archialogical
Whatsama-thingammy..Cant deny it' and  he took a fee' twenty
Years went past, now surely he can till? again.? At last!! No
Mention of a clause; or legal waiver, .' I'd say to farm again is
His right and favour.' Old England will benefit' the people all
Round need the crops to go into the ground.' A balance is
Great between preservation and farming.' Yet this is an
Imbalance. And most alarming in a time of Brexit and
Challenge of change a nations interest are more relevant
And this injustice must be changed.! Give ear to reality, and
Allow the wheat to grow, as in ww2 the fields need to be sown i am with Andrew.! (the Coope-rman)of Croyde Devon,! may he live long and hale to continue farming that land.!

Farmer under the azure sky

Under the azure sky
And,in the green fields
The beauty of farmer's life high.

His home with tin roof house high
And earthern floor bare
With mud walls everywhere.

It is a part of nature's grace
Nestled in a beautiful place
Where tranquility finds bare.

But in the tranquil scene
Waiting for the monsoon keen
His hope and dream serene.

Middlemen exploiting his way
Leaving him with no say
In a struggle everyday.

Beneath the blue sky so high
Where rural landscape lie
Farmer's struggle never die.

His life on nature's embrace
His home in a beautiful place
There scenary will show its grace.

If they are united tight
To challange the middlemen's might
To set their economic might.

See the example of Amul's might
Where Rochedale Pioneers showed their fight
Cooperatives rising to great height.

Then farmer's life lovely and bright
Peace dwelling with pure delight
In nature's embrace so right.

I Thank

I thank the sun ...
The soil, the summer rain,
I thank the apple tree
The fields of golden grain

I thank the corn crops
And the pumpkin patch, 
I thank the warm barn
Where new poults hatch

I thank Tom turkey ...
From down on the farm,
And the good old farmer
Who caused him no harm

I thank the potato fields 
And the pecan trees,
I thank the earth ...
For bogs of cranberries 

I thank this land ...
The sky and the air,
For giving all of us
These things to share.

John Farmer

In memory of John Farmer, a man so bold, 
An ironworker’s tale, in stories retold. 
From Local 46, his strength did shine, 
In New York’s skyline, his work divine.
A skydiver brave, he soared the skies, 
Twice he faced death, but still did rise. 
With a heart full of courage, he took the leap, 
In the clouds, his spirit, forever to keep.
He loved to cook, with a chef’s delight, 
At barbecues, he’d ignite the night. 
With spatula in hand, and a grin so wide, 
He’d serve up joy, with friends by his side.
A two-fisted drinker, who loved his beer, 
In his local pub, he’d bring good cheer. 
Known by all, with a laugh so hearty, 
He’d light up the room, making everyone jolly.
For John, retirement was just a fancy word for more time to play, 
With friends everyday, in whatever came his way. 
On April 10th, 2024, he bid us farewell, 
But his stories and laughter, forever we’ll tell.
His retirement brief, yet full of zest, 
John Farmer, you truly were one of the best. 
Rest in peace, dear John, your legacy grand, 
In our hearts and memories, you’ll always stand.

No Romance for Farmer Fred

Farmer Fred on the day he was wed
Believed every word he said
He knew his light of love Nancy
Was so much more than a passing fancy
Nancy had brains, beauty, and drive
With her by his side, Fred felt so alive
Now after forty years of wedded bliss
Fred thought he'd give Nancy a kiss
So Fred gives her his famous wink of the eye
And beckoned Nancy to come over nigh
Now Nancy had a different idea
Sideling over she gives Fred a swift kick in the rear
Smiles and says "Get yourself out of here
And go fix that old John Deere"
So much for romance thought Fred out loud
Hush! you old fool, the back forty needs to be plowed

Resilience

river in full spate
yoke of oxen wade calmly
confident farmer

Poll

A farmer drove into town.
Some posters made him frown.
They said, "Go to the Poll".
He said,"In the pasture below?"
"Right now, they're standing a'chowin'".

(To understand this limerick, you must understand that a polled cow has no horns from birth)

wife irritates Farmer B

Farmer B spent the day moving a carrot from Farm A to B.
Why didn’t you plant it in B in the first place asked his wife, C.
He had no reply, for it made sense, and irritated him a little.
She is an older gal with a tiny beard, and sometimes a bit of spittle.

Cheddar Cheese

The farmer said his cow was a Swiss.
Lou said  "Tell me one thing, and it is this.
Does it make holes in the cheese,
Using Swiss milk, if you please?"
Farmer said,  "No. But the cheddar is bliss."

Hilda Milks Cy

Every animal in the lot came by for a hi
They wanted to see Hilda milk her baby Cy
Cy was okay with it, not a bit tit shy
And of course, the kitty was sitting by.

Hello! Said Hilda, welcome one and all.
She got a stool as she sat down in the stall.
The chickens began clucking, the cow gave a moo.
I wish I had been there, bet you do too.

Hands that toil : Hearts that ache

From fields of gold to the city's cold embrace,
He came a farmer, with a weathered face.
Dusty clothes, hands calloused and worn,
Carrying the burden of harvest born.

But steel and glass denied his rightful claim,
A public servant, fuelled by disdain.
"Unfit," they scoffed, for comfort and ride,
Ignoring sweat beneath the sun's harsh tide.

A captured scene, a viral shame,
Sparked outrage, burning in social flame.
"Is this the city, where clothes define worth?
Does dignity vanish with the smell of earth?”

The farmer stood, his spirit unbowed,
Though pride was crushed and his heart clouded.
He carries the weight of unseen scars,
Of judgment swift, and judgment's harsh bars.

A single act, a ripple of pain,
Unveils the cracks where prejudice reigns.
But from the depths, a message takes flight,
For all who struggle, for justice and rights.

Let not his sacrifice be in vain,
Let empathy flow, like summer rain.
May bridges be built, hearts open wide,
Where all find welcome, with dignity as their guide.

• Short Farmer Poems
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• Long Farmer Poems
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