Poem Hunter
The Ole Family Farm
HT ( / Marcellus, Michigan)

The Ole Family Farm

Poem By Herb Trewhitt

I remember back when I was a lad,
Just forty acres is all that we had;
And with just two horses we tilled the land,
Part of it hills...and the other part sand.

In our own little way we planted the grain,
And then said a prayer for a little rain;
Daddy always said when you worked the land,
That you and the Good Lord worked hand and hand.

Why I've seen Daddy's hands when they would crack and bleed,
From shocking the corn and shelling the seed;
I guess times were hard in many ways
But I still think those were the Good Ole Days'.

Now I know things have changed since I was a kid,
And I don't farm like my Daddy did;
But if we don't get together and stand real tall,
Our sons may not be farming - if ever at all.
Now it hurts me so...to think of the day,
When the Ole Family Farms might fade away;
They call it progress, and they don't see the harm
Of doing away... with the Ole Family Farm

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