Short John Deere Poems
Short John Deere Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about John Deere by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about John Deere by length and keyword.
Her sneezes didn't prevent her and John Deere from seeking vengeance...
leaving a carnage of dead grass and strewn tissues in her wake
6-2-18
sleeping Aurora
mowing smooth a lawn cutting
a John Deere motions
~
teeming green grasses
well kept this lawns cut
after being mowed
5/28/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
"Old Poppin Johnny", plowing rows and smoking away
As far as the eyes of a tater can see and the ears of corn hear
From daylight until dark, it has been a long day "John Deere"
Form:
Seems Florida men never learn
His getaway? A zero-turn
His Deere, not so fast
His lead didn’t last
Now grass is not his main concern
https://nypost.com/2022/07/11/florida-man-tries-to-escape-deputies-on-john-deere-lawnmower/
i express my love
rigor mortisly
ah the little
death
except mine for
me for you is
completely
deadly
i have a toe
tag with
more
then
John Doe
Dear John
or John Deere
which is actually
the brand name
of the backhoe i use
to dig my own grave over
and
over
and over
again and
again
Form:
My John Deere tractor is my favorite toy.
There’s nothing better that I enjoy.
I have many attachments I use every day,
That are used for more than just play.
My backhoe, chipper, and snow-blower are my friends.
Without them, my work would never end.
I love my tractor, it’s right outside.
Nature feeds my soul, as I take a ride.
Daddy's shoulders were burned by the sun
as he plowed wheat fields one by one
All his hopes seeded in the soil
His labor fed us with all his toil
Noon would come - he would find a tree
Take his hunchback pail...a moment free
The tractors roar was fierce and strong
He rode it all the daylight long.
He now plows heaven's fields on John Deere
I hear that motor loud and clear
The peanut or beer,
Dear John, John Deere,
Shade or a tree,
Puddles or a sea?
A table or dust,
Frosting or pie crust,
The in’s or out’s,
Squashed thumbs or shouts?
Did time or matter,
Or the pitter patter?
What did come first,
Or does it matter?
Because, here’s my thought;
Since nothing had thought,
Before there was thought,
Then first matter’s naught.
For the 4x4x4 contest
Here lies a grave,
a conglomerate headstone
without a name.
Weeds and cobwebs
wrapped tight around the heartless edge.
Caretaker whips around in a rusty John Deere,
Waking the dead and stirring mud.
Pretending he's a NASCAR stud.
He takes his lunch beneath a tree,
eating Twinkies with green fingertips...
For his love he'll steal a wreath,
and place it gently on her grave.
That bears a scar called, 'long forgotten"
A grave he's coined "no name".
The farmer jumped off the tractor and ran toward the house
He left it on, which gave a chance to his bull named Mouse
Mouse jumped on that John Deere and began harvesting corn.
He did it all day, ignoring all kinds of ridicule and scorn.
Farmer Jones watched out the window saying things like “I’ll be”.
His wife was as astonished, and genuinely amazed as he.
They decided to let Mouse do all the tractoring from here on out.
From time to time giving him direction with a gentle shout.