Old Barns

Poem By Roy Kieling

I love old barns, the wood all weathered
Always imagine a couple of horses there, tethered.
Big ones, small ones, no matter what size
In the country, you're sure to see one just over the rise

I love old barns, painted deep red
When inside you know the cows are well fed
And up in the cupola, painted white,
Out comes the pigeons, taking off in flight.

I love old barns, filled with hay
With a couple of red hens getting ready to lay
And with them struts the rooster all speckled black and white
They'll return to the hen house before it is night.

I love old barns, no lonager in need
Where many a horse and many a cow have taken their feed
But to the owner I really must pray
Please do not let it rot and tumble away.

I love old barns, way out of town
Where I can drive and dream, and always slow down
For to this day I'll always remember
When I left the farm it was late September

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Cows Out

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Till you've heard, 'the cows are out' alarm
Little Jed, you get some hay
I'll saddle the old gray

Little Old Church

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Were people of many denominations come to meet
The old wooden pew have been replaced with plush chairs
53 seats are all it will hold arranged in rows of double pairs

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I had never believed in love at first sight
But when she came through that door an hour before night

I got a lump in my throat, I've been wrong all these years

Gribble Barn

Down the road about half a mile from home
Stands the Old Gribble Barn with its high dome
It's always been red though sometimes rather faded
Which gives the appearance this barn is dated

Sheep Barn

A standard old barn with lean-tos on each side
There must be a story these old wall hide
It stands all along no one to ask
I'm sure it was a sheep barn build by the Basque