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What Is A Barn?

A barn is many things-

A barn is a fun place
To run, romp, and play.
It is also a place of refuge,
On hot or stormy days.

A barn is a storage place
For all your tools, grain, and hay.
It is also a place to unwind,
When you have had a tough day.

A barn becomes God's sanctuary,
When you begin to pray
It is also a place of work,
When work is needing done.

A barn is a place
Where freindships can be made
It is also a place

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poem by Macy Dvirnak
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The Barn and the Down

t stood in the sunset sky
Like the straight-backed down,
Many a time - the barn
At the edge of town,

So huge and dark that it seemed
It was the hill
Till the gable's precipice proved
It impossible.

Then the great down in the west
Grew into sight,
A barn stored full to the ridge
With black of night;

And the barn fell to a barn
Or even less
Before critical eyes and its own
Late mightiness.

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poem by Edward Thomas
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One Afternnon that Summer.

Despite the fact
that other local kids

were in the hay barn playing
Jane stood at the barn doors

looking in apprehensively
and you stood beside her

waiting for her to move in
or say something

but she just stood looking in
are we allowed in to play?

she asked
sure as long as we don't

cause damage to the hay bales
you replied

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poem by Terry Collett
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Juleaftenen (Christmas Eve )

Hvo minnes ikke
et vær, han tror, ei himlen mer kan skikke?
et vær som om hver sjel, fra Kains til den,
Gud sist fordømte,
den jord forbannet, fra helvete rømte,
som fristet dem å svike himmelen?....
Et vær, hvis stemmes
forferdelser ei mere kan forglemmes?
Thi alle tenkte: det må være sendt
for min skyld ene;
orkanens tordner meg kun meg de mene;
min synd er blitt åndene bekjent...
Et vær, hvis styrke
kan lære prest og troende å dyrke
demoner i det element, hvis brak
den gamle høre
fra barnsben kan i sitt bemoste øre
et skyens jordskjelv, luftens dommedag?
Et vær, som rystet
den sterkes hjerte i dets skjul i brystet,

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poem by Henrik Wergeland
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Kissing Carol Ann

Back in 1957
kissing Carol Ann
behind the barn
in the middle of
a windswept field
of Goldenrod
with a sudden deer
watching was
something special,
let me tell you.
Back then, bobby sox
and big barrettes
and ponytails
were everywhere.

Like many farmers,
Carol Ann's father
had a console radio
in the living room,
and every Saturday night

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poem by Donal Mahoney
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The Barn at Willoughby's Farm

I have this recurring nightmare where
I'm wandering round a farm,
It's out in the middle of nowhere, just
A milking shed and a barn,
An ancient tractor sits by the house
But the blinds are pulled and drawn,
And it seems that the farmer left this place
Before Jacinth was born.

But ever I see her stand and wave
As she climbed aboard the bus,
Off for a life of adventure, not
Stuck here, like one of us,
She'd always wanted the country life
Away from the city's swell,
The day that she waved goodbye to us
Was my first real glimpse of hell!

‘Once I've settled, I'll write, ' she said,
‘Or else, there's always the phone;

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Code—Heroics

There were three in the meadow by the brook,
Gathering up windrows, piling haycocks up,
With an eye always lifted toward the west,
Where an irregular, sun-bordered cloud
Darkly advanced with a perpetual dagger
Flickering across its bosom. Suddenly
One helper, thrusting pitchfork in the ground,
Marched himself off the field and home. One stayed.
The town-bred farmer failed to understand.

What was there wrong?
Something you said just now.
What did I say?
About our taking pains.
To cock the hay?—because it's going to shower?
I said that nearly half an hour ago.
I said it to myself as much as you.

You didn't know. But James is one big fool.
He thought you meant to find fault with his work.

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poem by Robert Frost
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December

'Hver sorgfuld Sjæl, bliv karsk og glad,
Ryst af din tunge Smerte,
Et Barn er født i Davids Stad,
Til Trøst for hvert et Hierte.'

*
(Juleaften).

Ungersve nden.
Dybt i mit Hjerte, hvor hun boer,
Et mægtigt Juletræ der groer,
Og det for hende ene.

Med Tankens Stjernelys det staaer,
Og Troskabs-Fuglen lifligt slaaer,
Bag Haabets grønne Grene.

Alt, hvad jeg har paa Jorden her,
Det finder hun paa Træet der,
Alt er for hende ene.

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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Big Barn Bed

Whos that coming round that corner
Whos that coming round that bend
Whos that coming round that corner, will it
Will it be my friend
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Who you gonna weep on? / who you gonna sleep on?
Who you gonna creep on next?
Weeping on a willow / sleeping on a pillow
Leaping armadillo, yes
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed etc.
Will it be my friend
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Who you gonna weep on? / who you gonna sleep on?
Whos you gonna creep on next?
Weeping on a willow / sleeping on a pillow
Leaping armadillo, yes
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed
Keep on sleeping in a big barn bed etc.

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Old Barn By The Side Of The Fields Of Hay

an old barn by the side of the fields of hay
is nothing but an old barn to your eyes
miguelito
this barn has been here ten years ago and it will be here
for another more years with you

father always
had it repaired before he died and when i take charge
i still come here and think once in a while
what is in this barn
that refuses to be broken
something that negates
the art of losing

it is the memory of my youth
it was here where the hay smelt pungent
for the first time

it was here when i was first
deflowered

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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