Beneath the sun, the farmer sows,
Into the earth where hope still grows.
With patient hands and faithful heart,
He gives the seed its place to start.
The rain will come, the green will rise,
And golden harvest fill the skies.
For every seed the farmer lays,
Is a prayer for better days.
Fields Sun
. Water Time
. Ripen chop
. Harvest crop
. Cereal
. Nibble chew
. Swallow fill
. Fibre Smile
Happy Tummy
In Southern hemisphere,'
Winter flowing past here,
At Jack Frost we peer,'
Happy smiles do appear,
Winter sunshine is sheer,
Roses need a pruning shear,
Moonlit nights all clear,
Not much snow this year,
Not a ski bunny, dear,
Drought is what we fear,
Of farmers' plight we hear,
Send more rain in our sphere,
Looks like El Nino gear.
tractors parked in fields
farming season in session
sunshine and long days
wind gust blew winter away
seed corn hats in little cafe
Hunger is terrible, it hurts, it gives us sadness, it makes us feel so down.
Hunger is from the intent to dominate, the failure to make food free and available.
Hunger was never like this, food use to grow freely, like apples and all kinds of food.
Hunger was created to cause us harm, to make us pay, to make us be under control.
Hunger should be abolished, food should grow freely again, farming should be taught to all, and all should be able to learn.
Hunger can be ended, everyone should take notice and take time to end hunger forever.
Hunger walk-in places should be created to feed people, no one should go hungry, making them angry and unable to feel good.
So feed the hungry, grow food freely, work toward the best we can be today and into the future.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Back drives me cold
Plant at village
Busy morning.
Season's shortage
Between rice price
Need force to plant.
Each time pants on
Soaking the mud
Life hard living.
Love those who work
A farm living
Help a nation.
In the quiet morning light I see
the deep oshanas breaking round
like a boundless oasis that is bright
and the echoes of the cattle happily resound.
Manna of the north is planted
and the mielies grow around the homestead
harrowed as the family toiled
the soil swallows the breeze of the drizzle ahead.
Oh, how peaceful northern life
its addictive memory is unerasable
as the sun tiptoes towards the West
and the herder's whistle resurges in the lovable forest.
She tasted like honey, like apples ripe,
A sweetness that lingered in the night's sweet light.
With every breath, I drank her soul,
And found in her touch, I was made whole.
She tasted of sugar, a kiss in the breeze,
The flutter of wings in the tallest of trees.
She brought the sun when my skies were gray,
And melted the frost that clouded my way.
Like rainwater pure, she rushed through my veins,
Washing away all my sorrows and pains.
Her laughter, like rivers, ran wild and free,
A soft, soothing current that carried me.
She smelled of the earth, of green fields wide,
Of wildflowers blooming in places that hide.
Her scent was the dawn breaking through night,
A breeze full of promises taking flight.
She came like the spring after winters long,
A melody whispered, a forgotten song.
Her presence, a whisper, both soft and strong—
I was home in her arms where I belong.
And when she was near, the world would glow,
With her breath like the wind’s sweet ebb and flow.
She tasted like honey, her spirit divine,
In her touch, I was hers, and she was mine
Work hard each day
Amidst sun heat
For the future.
While the milk cow hastens
Toward a worn barn,
Gray as the edges of melancholy,
Erasing the spring, breaking through Summer
Like Sunday, wearing her best suit
Rustling on the wings of Saturday’s robins,
Starving for Monday, while her words
Still the grief that comes from knowing
The week behind her will not come
Again, peppering the wind
With grace and love,
Intense as the passion, smiling
As milk flows, quietly blessing,
Trembling with songs,
Who reach through the shadows,
Singing melodies with soft eyes,
Brown like the trees,
Swaying softly, silencing every tear
Who dreams of a lasting peace,
Rich as milk who fills up the bucket,
Then the cup, tinting her coffee,
Soft blonde, like a woman whose heart
Melts with prayers spoken,
While the gentle heart sighs,
At a breathless moment when light,
Falls heavy against muddied silhouettes,
Against timbers, foundations
Who decide the cow can confide to the night,
Where peace hides, amid star strewn skies,
On flowing veils of the moon’s rising.
. for public domain
Among the trials and challenges
the Lord of Life hands us,
I find them more livable
in Smith Center, Kansas.
True wealth of a nation,
humble dignity of its people,
down to earth statesmenship,
bowed heads under a steeple.
The center of our nation,
strong heart of our soul,
wisdom rooted in the fields,
the cherry in the bowl.
collect and do soup
I love farming and cooking
do you love farming?
Harvesting your dreams
Towards future farming prime
One field at a time.
Agriculture's way of taking care of its people through farming the land
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.