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Where I grew up the landscape was flat, the sky wide
and Christianity, demanding. The nearest village didn’t
have a cinema but sometimes a travelling preacher
came along and the meeting hall was full.

They were good the old preachers, spoke about sin,
forgiveness and the saving of the soul. Many cried
came up to the podium spoke of their many sins and
was forgiven, many came it was a good meeting.

Our neighbour was there being saved, the farmer
told me that he was always saved but it didn’t last
long, he tended to look embarrassed for a few days,
then he was back being his old sinful self.

The farmer’s wife, Alice, stirred restless in her seat,
her eyes shone she wanted to get up there and

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poem by Oskar Hansen
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Lovely To His Eyes (Hybridanelle)

A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
in the distance there’s ploughing red Massy Ferguson tractor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

His son is out there tracking the field
seems young, vital and strong
and it’s as if he has now got to yield

and the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
and he’s still the administrator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again

and he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth,
seems young, vital and strong

and he wonders how many years still remain
but the ache reminds him of the words of the doctor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

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poem by Gert Strydom
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The Auld Wife

PART I

The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.

The piper he pip’d on the hill-top high,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
Till the cow said, “I die,” and the goose asked “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.

The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard,
The connection of which with the plot one sees.

The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,

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poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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A Modern Day Miracle

Where could you find an example
of true faith in the twentieth century?

‘Faith Like Potatoes’ to plant
in El Nino, in drought, in dust
a never grown before potato crop?

Angus Buchan, a farmer, in Durban

South Africa declared before 35,000
“To hell with El Nino! We are going
to plant this year! And we are going
to plant potatoes.” Fool or Man of Faith?

The Wisdom Of The Modern World
Scientists warned farmers not to plant!

“Do not plant this season unless
you have irrigation.” Angus had none!

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Ballad of Norman Jack and Billy

Summer days in sixty three
Happy carefree hours in play;
Three boys that could in no way know
The folly that would blight their day.

Jack turned out to meet big Norman
Finding bird's nests - couldn't wait;
They also called for smiling Billy,
Or 'Professor' to his mates.

Dusty tattered shoes that stepped
So lightly - not with careful tread,
Down the pebbled pathway, turning
Running through the wheat-field bed.

In the wood, much darker then,
But still they saw the nest on high;
The boy had almost reached his goal
Then from below he heard a cry.

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poem by John Carter Brown
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Sonnets of the boy who drew cats

I

A long time ago
when soldiers still carried spears and swords
a Japanese farmer and his wife,
had a string of children
and everyone got a task.

They milked cows, cared after pigs,
gathered chicken eggs
and ploughed the soil,
planted rice, wheat and oats,
but the youngest was too weak and small
to do any work
and time and again he neglected his duties
and disappeared
and drew cats.

II

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poem by Gert Strydom
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The Farmer's Daughter Cherry

The Farmer quit what he was at,
The bee-hive he was smokin':
He tilted back his old straw hat--
Says he, 'Young man, you're jokin'!
O Lordy! (Lord, forgive the swar,)
Ain't ye a cheeky sinner?
Come, if I give my gal thar,
Where would _you_ find her dinner?

'Now look at _me_; I settl'd down
When I was one and twenty,
Me, and my axe and Mrs. Brown,
And stony land a plenty.
Look up thar! ain't that homestead fine,
And look at them thar cattle:
I tell ye since that early time
I've fit a tidy battle.

'It kinder wrestles down a man
To fight the stuns and mire:

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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The Sensation Captain

No nobler captain ever trod
Than CAPTAIN PARKLEBURY TODD,
So good - so wise - so brave, he!
But still, as all his friends would own,
He had one folly - one alone -
This Captain in the Navy.

I do not think I ever knew
A man so wholly given to
Creating a sensation,
Or p'raps I should in justice say -
To what in an Adelphi play
Is known as "situation."

He passed his time designing traps
To flurry unsuspicious chaps -
The taste was his innately;
He couldn't walk into a room
Without ejaculating "Boom!"
Which startled ladies greatly.

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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Above From The Deep

Above from the deep
Taller than the sky wall
We shall pluck the sun
Embracing all shines in our arm
Bring it back into the ground
Brightening dark deep down
A Light for our dreams to grow
Above from the deep

Let the shine in their eyes staring
Upon me holding something
In my hand without a thing
Because only my eyes knowing
The existence of what i am holding
The invisible dream that i dream

Own my heart as whole
Forever it will be placed in my hand
Coated with my every strength
With all trust i lay in this palm

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poem by Unwritten Soul
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Part 6 of Trout Fishing in America

THE HUNCHBACK TROUT

The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew

too close together. The creek was like 12, 845 telephone

booths in a row with high Victorian ceilings and all the doors

taken off and all the backs of the booths knocked out.

Sometimes when I went fishing in there, I felt just like a

telephone repairman, even though I did not look like one. I

was only a kid covered with fishing tackle, but in some

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poem by Richard Brautigan
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