Rhythmic Stories April 1, 2021

The Ploughs in the Field

The man puts his hand to the plough

He’ll make a living somehow

His family depends on him

Every season 

                            to season

The man puts his hand to the plough

His shoulders  

                         hung low now

Somehow he’ll find the strength

To go the extra length

The season came on quick

It takes determination 

                                      to stick

Monotonous row after row

At least it’s better than a hoe

His crops won’t come in late

If the elements cooperate

Year after year 

                       the crop gave its yield

Now the ploughs rusting in the field

Time passed and left its mark

        Invention went and found a spark

 Now no man puts his hand to the plough

As the ploughs rust in the field with the cow

You may also like...

Rodeo

Once upon a rodeoCowboys on horsesPutting on a show whooping and holleringLittle calves rope collaring The cowboys’ lassohangs in the airAs an Unsuspecting calfgrazes near Rodeo riders and the life they desireNo cowgirl can control that fire Every rodeo fills...

A Hillside Day

It was puzzles or cardsPlaying Tag in the yard No devices that distractOur family was intact We had Carefree daysIt was our hillside way Playing until darkOur yard was our park Country life was a slower raceWe lived each day...

September

you can never return to SeptemberThe things behind you burned bright now,only smoky embers Look straight ahead to days before youThe things you lost only make you blue days in your past created the moldYour memory will record and hold...

MUrryHill5-9099

There was no privacy on a party-line if you were conversing with a friendanyone could pick up the phone and listen in we never had a smartphone in our pocketall the girls kept the boys’ numbers in their lockets Our...

 - 
Arabic
 - 
ar
Bengali
 - 
bn
German
 - 
de
English
 - 
en
French
 - 
fr
Hindi
 - 
hi
Indonesian
 - 
id
Portuguese
 - 
pt
Russian
 - 
ru
Spanish
 - 
es
Share on Social Media