Short Hoe Poems
Short Hoe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hoe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hoe by length and keyword.
What I Should Do Is Have to Hoe
What I should do is have to hoe,
Up and down then row by row;,
And soil till;
Seeds spill;
Soon things will begin to grow.
Jim Horn
Daddy potato head was using his hoe in a wicked way
Chopping up parsley and rhubarb, throwing it past Monday
Tuesday did not like it, it is shriveled and dried up he said.
Daddy Potato head did not realize he was making them dead.
Daddy potato head was using his hoe in a wicked way
Chopping up parsley and rhubarb, throwing it past Monday
Tuesday did not like it, it is shriveled and dried up he said.
Daddy Potato head did not realize he was making them dead.
Listen to poem:
11-year-old farm hands
David J Walker
What do the city kids do
In the summer
We
The 11-year-old farmhands
Don’t know
All we know is
Which end of the hoe
Goes into the hard ground
And which end will blister
Our hands
The world loves crippling
particularly if weakness
applies to a manner of spoken language
mouth that does not squeaks
is like a hoe with no claws sunk in the ground
only combing and stroking
instead of tearing and crumbling the stony grass
I CRUMBLED YOUR LEAVES
WITH GLOVED HANDS
AND MIXED THE RESIDUE WITH SAND
I PLANTED MY COLLARDS AND KALE
MY TURNIPS AND HORSRADISHES
SOME WERE IN THE PALE
I CRUMBLED YOUR PRETTY LEAVES
SO THAT THEY MIGHT NURISH MY PLANTS
COMPSOE IN THESE SANDS
FOOD FOR MY PLANTS!
hllbilly hoe down
hard piece of straw in each mouth
bibbed overall dance
banjos and fiddles
potluck of fancy desserts
arkansas ham hocks
hound dogs on the porch
homemade corn liquor from gramps
square dancing parents
loud bluegrass music
pink taffy pull for the kids
toothless grandmothers
Like a sappy fruit
in vice of time,
a slobber root -
a top cut by a knife.
Thick drops in a pot
down slowly trickle,
hold firmly a cup,
set off a ripple.
Must hoe one's row,
time, here, I see,
for muck and your
fruits marc will be.
If this is all there is
No God
No paradise
No Hell
Only this
And if everyone was aware
Of this
Would a man with the capability
Destroy it
On a whim?
Why not?
If this is all we get
Why not enjoy it?
This could be
This may be
Eden
We may even enjoy
Gardening
For a while
If a while is
All of it
The crow rejoiced in the field today.
Husks were popped open with maize showing through.
Crop was up, smiling in her special way.
There was so much corn, what could a young crow do?
He held a hoe down, invited twenty-two.
They danced their claws off; they were heard in hell.
Enough corn to keep them through the winter spell.
Although
it’s a hard row to hoe
a rough furrow to harrow
and a tough trench to plough
there’s many a meadow to mow
I hereby avow
and tho' it may be news to you
farmers have the need
to sow their seeds
where milkmaids milk the cows
swineherds feed their sows
and shepherds have their pie
and eat it too
in Slough now
It is a hoe down the fly told the titmouse
Where though? I only see one house
It’s invisible, but there are clues, I think.
It’s under a mushroom whose inside is all pink.
They searched together, but never found the party.
I’ve got an idea said the titmouse, whose name was Hearty.
Let’s host our own party and invite the fey and fireflies bright.
Great idea! The testy fly said, “This plan feels just right!”
If I'd a hoe,
in frozen Maine or Idaho,
I'd go on raking,
shivering and shaking,
all over this land.
I'd go reseeding after weeding
Brother, though your heart is aching,
and the field work is back-breaking,,
We've got to go on raking.
Sister, strengthen us by baking
Singing children, join the chorus.
The seven dwarfs are for us.
Uncle Sam and Santa Claus
cheer us on on without a pause.
Hoe, hoe, hoe!
YOUR HOE
AS I SIT HERE IN A PUDDLE OF BLOOD,
WONDERIN WHAT I DID SO WRONG,
WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME,
AND WAS IT MY FAULT,
YOU CHEATED ON ME.
AND SHE KNEW,
WHAT KIND OF HOE WOULD LET YOU DO THAT.
SO FOR A SOLUTION TO MY PROBLEM I CUT MYSELF.
SO AS I SIT HERE SLOWLY DYING,
WATCHIN MY BLOOD FLOW,
I CANT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND
WHY WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
ALL I CAN SEE IS YOU AND YOUR HOE
See her in the flowers,
that she walks by everyday,
listen to the meadowlark,
and what he has to say.
Feel the Earth that's turning,
so your heart can be set free,
see these words are burning,
written hastily by me.
Leave behind the hardship,
the bitter clouds of woe,
follow down your family,
where your seeds will surely grow.
Seek the book for guidance,
may the Lord now take your hand,
no need to strive for perfect,
for your heart he'll understand.