Archives
Pumpkin Growing Growing pumpkins is fun indeed But you must start with pumpkin seeds Dig a hole in the soil to begin Then place your seeds gently within. Cover the seeds with dirt and great care And hope the rain will soon be there, To water down your seeds below For sun and rain make pumpkins grow. From underneath the seeds will sprout And a little vine will wiggle out. In time… Read More
“Once again…welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.” -Bram Stoker Introducing our guest writer for April: K1’s oldest brother, Kevin Andrews (AKA K4). Like K1, Kevin has written many various pieces since childhood, and this piece was written in the 90’s, as a fond memory of the family field before the GM plant moved into Spring Hill, hence Saturn Parkway moved through the… Read More
“Progress” The gate is open into a field of grass. The sun sinks low as the day goes past Into the twilight of a looking glass. And the cattle are grazing on the hill. In the valley the stream runs true Carving the land as it meanders through Over the horizon goes the water blue. And the cattle are grazing on the hill. Crickets serenade the new twilight Across the land goes… Read More
“You may delay, but time will not.” -Benjamin Franklin The Lay of the Land My grandfather’s farm was a sacred place to me. The long gravel driveway stretched up the hill to the old white farmhouse, surrounded by a white picket fence in the front yard, and acres to roam in the back. It was a dairy farm off of Kedron Road in Spring Hill, Tn. It was one of many in… Read More
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.” – Robert Frost The Sound of Silence Silence. As I would sit in my grandparents’ house atop the hill on Kedron Road in what was Spring Hill (oh, it is still Spring Hill, but it has little or no resemblance to the town that I knew as a kid). I would sit… Read More
“They say you can’t make a living on farming… but doing anything else isn’t really living at all.” – Herman Melville An August Afternoon It is one of those sweltering, hot summer afternoons that frequent a Tennessee August. The air is still. Nothing is moving but the black flies, sweat bees, and mosquitoes that seem to relish the heat and are drawn by your perspiration and your inactivity in the stifling heat… Read More
Wandering Poet Adventures 