Horses pull wagons for hay mowing.
Smells so sweet the fresh mown hay,
It lays along rows where the grasshoppers play.
The men are in the fields hard at work now,
Workin the land by the sweat of their brow.
They know the land like a mold they did cast,
They furrow and plant, they remain steadfast.
The land yields up her bountiful harvest of food for the year,
And all join in the reaping, the community doth cheer.
Hand in hand the toil is less labor,
When they work alongside every neighbor.
All in a day's work they see the last of the sun's glows,
Until pale morning light when the first cock crows.
Cozy lit mornings, lanterns for chores in the barns,
A child slowly climbs up into his father's arms.
It won't be long till he will in hand shovel hold,
Or drive a team of horses over fields of grassy gold.
Ah, the joys of community life,
No more needs of lonely strife.
Mother's nursing babes in early morning light,
She ties her apron strings ever so tight.
For the day's work and toil, there's much to do,
A mother's work is never through.
Out to the barn, milk maid and her cow,
She milks and pours slop out for the sow.
In with the bucket she skims out the cream,
Churns the butter alongside the cool stream.
The baking, the mending, and many floors to scrub,
And all the sudsy clothing in an old wash tub.
A dusting of flour upon her face as she prepares the meal,
Hot biscuits and gravy, carrots with veal.
Get out her plates and forks and spoon,
For the men will be in to eat soon.
They wash up their face, their hands, and feet,
They say a prayer and sit down to eat.
With tummies all full and stories told with wit,
They all sit awhile and nod off for a bit.
A rest to replenish for there's work yet to be done,
Everything done together becomes a whole host of fun.
All the women chatter as they set the canners to boil,
All the shelves in the cellar full from all their toil.
Everyone knows everyone, there is nothing to hide,
For in community we work side by side.
Everyone gathers for the butchering bees,
Canning the meat and cutting down trees.
After hard work we yearn for long winter's rest,
And times to get together we are so very blessed.
Many seasons change and children grow up fast, too,
They are learning so much where there is much to do.
They learn to work hard and be honest and true,
Very young they wish to be a part of the crew.
Ah, community life, it has no end,
For we teach each new generation how to fend.
They will know how to put food on the table each day,
By the sweat of their brow and because they pray.
~Erin Harrison ©2013