Best Farming Poems

As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley.
...

`You know Orion always comes up sideways.
Throwing a leg up over our fence of mountains,
And rising on his hands, he looks in on me
Busy outdoors by lantern-light with something
...

I find it very hard to be fair-minded
About people who go around being air-minded.
I just can't see any fun
In soaring up up up into the sun
...

In the late night listening from bed
I have joined the ambulance or the patrol
screaming toward some drama, the kind of end
that Berky must have some day, if she isn't dead.
...

In an attempt to lighten up my poem site I offer
this doggeral style ditty about my neighbor's dog-

I used to range those farming fields,
...

It can't take a joke,
find a star, make a bridge.
It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming,
building ships, or baking cakes.
...

There's many a schoolboy's bat and ball that are gathering dust at home,
For he hears a voice in the future call, and he trains for the war to come;
A serious light in his eyes is seen as he comes from the schoolhouse gate;
He keeps his kit and his rifle clean, and he sees that his back is straight.
...

Earth no longer
hymns the Creator,
the seven days of wonder,
the Garden is over —
...

I have some trouble living.

My wife found out
that her friends were
...

Thousand minstrels woke within me,
"Our music's in the hills; "—
Gayest pictures rose to win me,
Leopard-colored rills.
...

How beautiful is the Belief, when we belief in the God
How beautiful are the Creatures, when we belief in the Creator
How beautiful is the Motherhood, when we belief in the Sacrifices
How beautiful is the Fatherhood, when we belief in the Battles
...

529

I'm sorry for the Dead—Today—
It's such congenial times
...

By homestead, hut, and shearing-shed,
By railroad, coach, and track --
By lonely graves of our brave dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
...

April 22, Earth Day, who cares?
Government's don't,
The politicians don't,
Big business don't,
...

He was bare—we don’t want to be rude—
(His condition was owing to drink)
They say his condition was nood,
Which amounts to the same thing, we think
...

By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track-
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
...

By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track-
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
...

Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter,
And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
Down in the pasture the sheep hear that strange crying for Peter,
Over the meadows that call is aye and forever repeated.
...

But what’s the use of writing ‘bush’—
Though editors demand it—
For city folk, and farming folk,
Can never understand it.
...

She was always searching for a 'Prince Charming'
Who can use his tool for skillful farming
But the one she found was expert in farting
That too at the rate explosive and alarming
...

Of course it is the time of winter,
It is printed in by wind printer.
Nature has painted mark beauty,
Everywhere birds chirp feel fruity.
...

May I splinter away from myself
break into whole units
and
live in each with perfection!
...

So here the great man stood,
fermenting malice and poems
we have to be nearly as fierce
against ourselves as he
...

OLD Rip Van Winkle had a grandson, Rip,
Of the paternal block a genuine chip,—­
A lazy, sleepy, curious kind of chap;
...

I

How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day!
A steely silver, underlined with blue,
...

a recurrent theme
in my life
is how my job
causes such strife
...

I hate the common, vulgar herd!
Away they scamper when I 'booh' 'em!
But pretty girls and nice young men
...

Obscurity cared for the infant's pediatric life innocently where the motherly lap was way to life
At four, a playground was farming fields and a rustic prayer home with brother and cousin
Collecting paddy straws to help my mother in cooking and learning religion were duties daily
Sometimes Dang-guli game and scuffle with same age villagers were daily kith and kin
...

This is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Last of a noble race,
BARNABY BAMPTON, coming to woo,
All at a deuce of a pace.
...

Guests Galore, Uninvited

Those were the days!
...

Never should we be
Aiming at increasing
Only growth of GDP
Of crude modernity
...

To my wine I sing
of the times of peace,
when officers shall not make calls at the door.
The ruler is bright and virtuous,
...

WOULD YOU be the King, the strong man, first in council and in toil,
To the men who war with nature for possession of the soil?
...

I woke up and before I got out of bed I thought...
about words of a poem which I'd not yet wrought.
I once heard about something 'God' had 'wrought',
but THAT is not what, by tonight, I hope I've brought
...

There's a soft and peaceful feeling
Comes across the farming hand
As the shadows go a-stealing
Slow along the new-turned land.
...

All you on emigration bent,
With home and England discontent,
Come, listen to my sad lament,
All about the bush of Australia.
...

There's a happy little valley on the Eumerella shore,
Where I've lingered many happy hours away,
On my little free selection I have acres by the score,
Where I unyoke the bullocks from the dray.
...

I knew an old philanthropist, a farming man was he,
Shrewd at a deal, but still withal a man of charity.
He had three sons - three hefty lads - Josiah, Jim and Joe,
And each of these had his own land, and made a goodly show.
...

MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
...

A celebration of the grace
of the past, or
a celebration of the grace
of today?
...

A change is what everybody dreams and wants to see
The change we see – is it better or bad? It’s the question!
Every morning the colourful Sun rise is beautiful to see!
The singing birds inspire us to be free and happy in life!
...

Army of Northern Virginia, army of legend,
Who were your captains that you could trust them so surely?
Who were your battle-flags?
...

Birds raise curiosity
Among humans
Neighbors they're
Since time immemorial.
...

Thursday I picked plums, and.....I may have picked a peck,
but if it WEREN'T a peck I picked, "Who Cares? ". What the heck!
Some were soft, some still hard, some purple, some were green.
This year's is a "bumper crop", the best that Bri has seen.
...

Said the good-natured mouse
who was sharing a house
which was really a log
with a goose-shit-green frog:
...

On Erie's banks were tigers steal along,
And the dread Indian chaunts his dismal song.
Where human fiends their midnight errand walk ;
And bathe in brains the murderous tomehawk.
...

Waking early before family
Getting busy with chores daily,
Preparing the way for males to farming,
Women! Your work is unrelenting....
...

Let hearts show love
Thursday,16th January 2020

Keep smiling
...

Great is the ambition
When a farmer's son aims
To pass his all examinations
Staring from matriculation
...

In homely apparel one
Clothes farming songs, Will Carleton.
But they have a manly ring,
And we his praises hearty sing.
...

When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald,
In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field,
He called to him Hobdenius-a Briton of the Clay,
Saying: "What about that River-piece for layin' in to hay?"
...

The cost of living's rising every day
when there ain't no work a man can't pay
when there's farmers not farming and white collars blue in jail
you know the working man just got Cut all to Helll.
...

I mind the river from Mount Frome
To Ballanshantie’s Bridge,
The Mudgee Hills, and Buckaroo,
...

Can this be the old town of wheat-teams and saddle-hacks,
Of Ted Toll's smithy, with the anvil ringing clear,
Of stacks in the station yard, and stockmen, and farming hands,
Of bow-legged bound'ry riders coming in for beer
...

Let me drink cow's milk with hormones*;
It may make me, Bri, more virile.
Feed me only GMO** food;
I'll become a Super Hero!
...

the lettuce is growing
the head is spinning
Fred is unknowing
the farmer is grinning
...

forget about karma.......

f....car....
f-arms
...

Some sad stories of captive birds
and captive humans:
...

Oh’ how rolls that deep blue sea
What tales it could tell you and me
Its constant rolling, its breaking spray
In the moonlight at the end of the day.
...

Being treated like animals, like nothing
Wearing rags and flogged under the hot African sun
Locked in cages and treated brutally
When would all this be over?
...

The spirit is breathing
eternal internal
until the Word eternal
external matters
...

Gwyn was a farmer, whom the farmers all,
Who dwelt around, 'the Gentleman' would call;
Whether in pure humility or pride
...

I am a farmer
Farming is my profession
I cultivate my land
I rear cattles cows goats
...

Reminiscences 10

The ‘Green Revolution' had not yet reached Kerala. Dr. M S Swaminathan was still in Indian Agricultural Research Institute (IARI) , New Delhi. Tractors and tillers had not seen the light of the day. At least not in our village.
...

City fellow decided to take up farming and he bought
a big farm. He wanted some livestock so consulted the
farmer next door. Got me a horse but he has a habit
... likes sittin' on apples. Sees an apple and squats...
...

by Yi Sha
(translated by Denis Mair)
 
As easy as you please, again
...

Here in Fortuna, northern California,
chickens demand their "civil rights".
They ‘cluck': "If we don't get our rights,
there'll be some very nasty fights! "
...

My hands clutching tight years gone by and dead,
I mull old memories, do day-dreaming,
Hold eager hands cupped to catch those ahead,
That time I've none for the moments fleeting.
...

Mostly he just stood there
Next to the fence
Looking at what,
We knew not
...

Man became men

Once Man was whole
And then just as
...

time for planting rice
paddies are water full
lady just breaking east
native music plays beat
...

Dandruff on the scalp
and wrinkles on the skin
reminds of
your dynamics.
...

O for the strength to paint my joy once more!
That joy I feel when Winter's reign is o'er;
When the dark despot lifts his hoary brow,
...

Like farmers aiming for a bountiful harvest,
The world is bent on its back.
Farming away at the knowledge of how things should be.
My question became the strange one,
...

Born in wilderness
Breathing such fresh air
Drinking clean water
Farming precious land
...

"Auld Lang Syne", a song often heard ‘round the start of a New Year,
was penned { according to a Google article } by {to some} a poet-dear.
PoemHunter.com celebrates his birthday on its "Main Page" this day, but …
it was NOT JUST at poems and songs that this Romantic poet did "play".
...

It was ecstatic electricity.
That touch of velvety, delicious skin,
the sun had, reasonably, retreated
and in the forest we felt wild and free.
...

They call him busy, that industrious bee.
when he goes on a pollen hunting spree.
He sounds so contented making that humming
sound, so please don't disturb him when he
...

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes
on a pile of broken dishes by the house;
a tall man too, says the length of the bed
in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,
...

A governor it was proclaimed this time,
When all who would come seeking in New Hampshire
Ancestral memories might come together.
And those of the name Stark gathered in Bow,
...

in my imagination
the future is so green
in the farming operation
I think I spy
...

Oh how I love those country fields
That are rich with wheat and such
Waving freely in the air
With a wonderful farming touch
...

There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
...

Global warming is a super scam that has been foisted
upon us by nefarious political factions.
Their lies, exaggerations and misleading graphs have hoisted
multiple billions of dollars of carbon tax transactions.
...

What fun it was when I was a kid
Climbing up in the hay loft
Looking down from up above
Atop the hay so warm and soft
...

Living in pains and inferiority;
They dreamed to make a name.
Farming and eating on mines of indignity;
They persevered and beared the shame.
...

Mangrove forests, beautiful mangroves
Vital for ecosystem and water species
Fishes, and shrimps they give protection
As well as convenient habitat in safety.
...

I am a small farmer holding half acre of land
There I made wonders of cultivation
The people say
I am such a poor man finds my livelihood
...

Under this little roof I started the journey
With smiling and crying faces in cradle
Great love my mother gave
And slept in safety in the cradle
...

My pig won't let me watch TV.
It's totally unfair.
He watches anything he wants
but doesn't ever share.
...

A POEM SHOULDN'T BE A RIDDLE

The truth is, do in the season;
Various farming and plantation.
...

A farm hand fed on phoney legends—
Ye-desh-ki-dharati1—my golden lands,
Fancy getting carried
Which, such songs help to breed,
...

If moneyed man, go for business,
Just a little, farming I guess,
Service, if none at all,
Never a begging bowl!
...

Proud our progress might look with flyovers,
But not for me are toll-speckled speedways,
Pylons hacking hinterland, tall towers—
I long for the good old fashioned highways.
...

I used to know a fellow in the farming trade,
You could always tell his chickens
By the eggs they laid;
They were small like him
...

Spray

Spraying every crop in sight,
Pesticides decimating wildlife,
...

Death’s when upon me close, whispering cold
Grey wisdom, but of too little avail,
I know I’m death-less soul, no body frail,
And death’s change of garment worn out and old,
...

sitting in my old chair
on the porch breaking
green beans... waiting
on the storm.
...

Scientists

Hey dear scientists
Let us think of something
...

When I look back upon my life
The peacefulness I’ve had
Being raised in a gentle world
Of country with mom and dad
...