Silage Poems - Poems about Silage

...Rows of green spaces in a row Trying to control natures flow, all things wild have to conform, To fit in with accepted norm. Cut down trees they block out the sun, Trim the lawn curtai......

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... In the pantomime of pretend prose, the moon dances on lonely nights. Before the lights go out at twilight, unforgiven ice cold hearts, remain abandoned, hoping this is the end. Her eyes like......

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...The field had stood barren these last few years waiting for the farmer who scratched his head visualising crops with which he could plant corn tall yellow gently rustling in the breeze he mulle......

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...Feed them silage for good milk yield. Better than grazing in the field. Inside they come and silage eat and they delight in tasty treat. Dry and warm in the shed they stay munching silage throug......

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...You bought me as your loving pet; well trained and tamed, From a cattle-fair; I was two; handsome; zestful; You did not like cats and dogs as they turned nuisance - I heard you saying to my owner......

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...It was a crisp fall November weekend, We had gotten up early that morning A frantic rush, buzzing to go camping. We'd packed the night before, tired by the end. My parents briskly loaded th......

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...A priest once told me that the lump on my hand was a ganglion, a fortress of fat besieged by health. At last it burst and the hand swelled like an old man's, shovel shaped and splayed. It was......

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...the meadows harbour wild flowers and sweet clover bows before the scythe © Harry ......

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...The pin oak leaves from dormant trees, fall on this crisp autumn morn, as I paint the scene of an artist’s dream; in my mind this landscapes born. The patch work green is this valleys scene, wi......

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...Outside the balmy gust of wind tussle the prairie grasses and whips the horse's mane. They journeyed, horse and rider, muscle pulling like ships sailing on their courses. Through the sea of go......

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...the headiness of now swirl of keystroke and ideal new pages new thoughts flying on ether buoyed by excited neutrons flared by the plasma of a thousand faceless pens type it spill it splash ......

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...I shall go weary with a fight, Into that strange and ever night, Across the bounds of thistle-thorns, To dance a jig neath golden horns; Perchance, I breathe a sulfured air, For earning les......

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