Friday, September 20, 2019

Irish Farmer Long Ago ©2019TonyFallon0917

Irish Farmer Long Ago ©2019TonyFallon0917
Irish Farmer Long Ago ©2019TonyFallon0917
The Irish farmer had plenty to do early morning to night
He was up long before the cock crew still out past fading light
He had to worry about cattle sheep or maybe a donkey
He wore a pair of wellingtons and never dressed too swanky
For the grass less days of winter in summer he had to prepare
By having a big cock of hay to keep them fed for the spring fair
The men who sit in city chairs have not many chores to perform
While farmers worry about supplies if there's any kind of storm
He was glad when a cold winter was over if there was no snow
Now he has to worry about lambs and how many fields he'll sow
Thank God the compulsory tillage scheme is no longer in force
Thank God he can plough if he has a tractor instead of a horse.
Then he has to decide whether his main crop will be oats or wheat
And assign a smaller field or two to a crop of sugar beet
A field or two had to be plowed for the yearly potatoes crop
If there was no blight he didn't have to buy potatoes in the shop
The longer warm days of summer ded not mean the man could rest
There were so many things to do too often the man was stressed
The days were so much longer now many goals were achieved
If he wears any kind of shirt at all it will not be long sleeved
The sheep had to be dipped then later they had to be sheared
And when the thistles and nettles grow they had to be cleared
Now the hay is cut and that has to be turned and twisted
That is an important crop the wife and children were enlisted
The corn crops are soon ready for cutting and made into sheaves
The root crops would be harvested after cutting off their leaves
the august days were shorter as he goes for a load in the bog
The hot earth and the cooler air often caused morning fog
The cows had to be milked twice a day not by machines but hands
The milk shipped off to the creamery in twenty gallon cans
'Tis many the man kept wool too long and became a hoarder
Waiting to see if the price went up either side of the border
The autumn daylight got a little lesser with each setting sun
Now there was more urgency to get the farm chores done
The turf had to be stacked properly to keep the rain at bay
Into the haggard had to be taken the oats the wheat and hay
The thrasher was a little factory belts working without flaw
Separating the chaff from the kernels and kernels from the straw
Potatoes were covered with straw in a pit so they wouldn't be lost
A shed got ready for the cows to protect them from the frost
It is many say those were the good old days others disagree
Its not easy working for Mc Alpine once you're overseas
Many long for simpler life amidst the noise and soot and din
And would prefer dancing at the crossroads to a violin
They'd love to hear once more the skylark the cuckoo and corncrake
Myself I'll never forget the food like my mother's currant cake
Those are memories of an exile on an American shore
I don't think even Pat Murphy is mowing meadow any more

Monday, September 2, 2019

First Prize©2019TonyFallon083119


First Prize©2019TonyFallon083119

My love for you from day one has been growing
My heart must be like a cup it’s already over flowing
That over flow would be too much for a simple canteen
So you’d have to put the cup within a big soup tureen

As we go through life it is so often full of everyday pressure
Around the corner or on the block there may be a hidden treasure
And then something magic happens which can never be explained
And you are left to wonder was this chance meeting preordained?
I do not care what else happens in the world as long as you remain
I can survive and maybe even prosper as long as I am with you Jane

I don’t know what I did to deserve this lucky break
It’s like not being your birthday but you get a birthday cake
It’s like going into a room and everybody yells surprise
It’s like not buying a ticket yet going home with first prize

Moonless Wilderness©2019TonyFallon0902

Moonless Wilderness©2019TonyFallon0902

The night was dark without a moon 
As we walked amongst mountain trees
Her white parka was like a cocoon
A cold mean bite was in the breeze

We had often roamed this forest
In the friendlier hours of day
And walked briskly without much rest
Moving on the gentle sloping brae

But alone far from the turnpike
Proved to be a real challenge
The ghostly trees all looked alike
With no moon to give us balance

Animals roamed the forest floor
Two distant coyotes called
Within feet maybe elk and boar
Brown bears roamed here we could be mauled

We walked on with growing fear
In fact we were getting nervous
Indeed I was no mountaineer
And our phones had just lost service

I did not want to admit it
But I knew we were really lost
And now I could not transmit it
So many miles we had crossed?

We came to a small clearing
Where a large wide river flowed
I almost felt like cheering 
If we followed it there'd be a road

The mosquitoes had a field day
And many other pests with wings
It did little good to slap or flay
Hands and faces covered with stings

Well we made the right decision
Found a road and a safe passage
We were both in good condition
Neither one too badly damaged

Well this madness is completed
A trip that could have turned serious
Never more to be repeated
A terrifying experience