Wave Books, Seattle's own super groovy independent poetry press, famous now for its Poetry Bus, has something super groovy going on again. "Our 12-acre (uncertified) organic fruit & vegetable farm, [near Orfordville, Wisconsin], is open to poets willing to work for four good hours a day in exchange for room, board, and a new environment in which to write." Sounds neat, doesn't it?
In honor of Wave Books being super groovy and environmentally friendly, a farming poem:
The Happy Farmer
by Mr. Charles H. Crandall, The Farmer-Poet of Stamford, Connecticut
O'er mountain peaks the morning breaks,
The robin at my window wakes,
And calls me now to guide the plow
Down where the waving willows bow.
My sturdy team goes swiftly round
And swiftly turns the fragrant ground,
While breezes blow and grasses grow,
And birds of passage northward go.
Fly on, swift birds, across the land!
And blow, ye winds, from strand to strand!
For well I know, where'er ye go,
Ye see no happier man below,
For my heart is light and my love is true
And the day is full of work to do!
The plow is still and blushes fill
The heavens o'er the western hill,
As homeward now, with tossing mane,
My steeds go stepping down the lane.
How glad they reach the water-trough!
And grateful now, with harness off,
They follow to the pasture ground,
And break away with playful bound.
Now softly fall the meadow bars,
And silently steal out the stars,
And as I watch the splendid night
I hear a footstep falling light,
And some one saying, sweet and true,
“Come, love, there's no more work to do!"
No comments:
Post a Comment