Dirt Farmer -- Play it Again

Dad was a dirt farmer

Dad was a dirt farmer, why am I not?

Straight was his favorite, more than a word

Planted crop rows must be aligned, no bends

Fences too had to be straight, post by post

And down the hill, bends would show, neighbors know

Do them over was his word, end up straight

Weeds to be cut, no spraying, kids 're home

Hoes were the tool, with them we walked the rows

Miss a weed he'd be on your tail, go back

All was that way on his farm. And the cows?

They had better line up straight in their rows

The horses too, just the pigs were sloppy

Dad wanted to be a lawyer, the best

Grandpa said no, I need help on the farm

So I became the lawyer, Dad's straight kind

 

Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 

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Though most of my poems are fiction with seemingly real events, this one is real and is a tribute to my dad who died in 2007.  He was a good farmer, I would not have been. (link)

 

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I'm linked today with Margaret at the Real Toads, Play it Again Challenge. 

Margaret wants us to go back to one of three older challenges, I chose "Challenge #2:  "Dirt Farmer" Imagined by Marian - HERE." In this challenge Marian wants us to write a response writing to the Band's 1980's (??) song, with Levon Helm, the drummer, singing "Poor old Dirt Farmer.

Listen to it below:

Tell me where ...

"Tell me where you've been ...
Maybe I don't want to know ..."
So the song, "The Story -- So Much Mine" went

But I did want to know
so 'where' I found
'Where' was 'where' I thought it'd be, no place good

Had I a gun,
jealous guy that I am
There'd been a dead soul or two at that 'where'

Nice guy that I am
'there'  no gun had I
"T'was on the Isle of Capri" love was lost

Poem Copyright 2014 Jimmiehov All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked to Marian's challenge found with The Real Toads (Link) Marian challenged us to write something brought to mind after listening to a song she knew, "So much mine."

Pathetic fallacy

Runaway

Crouching below the window, 
she cowered in reeking horror
The wind was voracious, 
the skies were screeching lightening bugs,
Giants' tools,  searchlight effect.  

"Oh pray that none ever finds me"
Was her sobbing cry.  
Between crashing thunder claps our girl vowed
She vowed to leave this place,     
Mother Nature prevailed, she'd go home

Poem copyright, 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I'm linked to the Real Toads, Kerry Says (link)

Kerry tells that 'pathetic fallacy' is a literary term for the attributing of human emotion and conduct to all aspects within nature.  I.e. leaves dance, dogs laugh, or when rocks seem indifferent. We should try this, I did a little here.

Stones, for? -- Open Link Mondays

Stones

Stones resemble us in various ways
Puffed up like lava ash or thick and dull
Shining bright like river bottom wet jade
Yet green in the gills when dry, rough and raw

Iron look, oxidized, yellow pallor
Large and small, heavy and light, young and old
Physical attributes all but do they?
Do they cry or feel sad when defiled?

Can they laugh, do they smile, or fall in love?
Love them we might but love never returned
Not made with a soul, the deadest of dead
Yet use them we will, they come in handy

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Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2013 and 2014 jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

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Jim's "Stone Poems", http://jimmiehov6.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=Stones

Today I am linked with the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link )