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There are farmers of many kinds and types A teacher that implants the seed of knowledge In the impressionable minds of his students Helping to grow them into fine human beings
Now let’s see, there once was a cow named Betsy. She was as cute as could be, you see. She had a bow upon her head; she would make the grass her bed. All the other cows loved her, it’s true. But one day, Betsy felt so blue. Why you may ask?
I cannot tell If my dog likes it here. Yes, when the door opens, he perks up his ear. And whenever we pet him his tail wags. All year.
You were a terrible friend. Words really cannot express how unpleasant it was to be friends with you.
Dearest Agriculture, Outstanding in your field, You are the backbone of America. You are the food on our plates, You are the cotton socks on our feet.
I am from arable land From tall scratching grass and hum of electric cattle wire I am from stolen sweetpeas and muddy carrots, slipped through to the old white draft-horse
I've been looking for a place to plant my life. Maybe at a shop, or ship or bar? But not on a farm. For weeds at farms are pulled sight.
I still hear the children playing, They have their own homes now. I still hear the horses running, They have passed away now. I still hear the rain falling,
The smell of honeysuckle budding The view of a once lively countryside now abandoned The sounds of young children laughter that once filled the air Is now the sounds of loneliness and despair
All I need is my culture. The blood of the Meshika flows through my veins Know that my ancestors were not the Aztecs, For that name was coined by the European imperialist
outside a man in a suit whistles Briefcase set on sunbaked sidewalks
I live on a farm
I am me, I am a brown haired girl
Around the small pond Three horses and a donkey This is all I need
Sweet, crisp, golden hay Shining, freshly groomed coat Tired but content Renee Missy begins to dote Soft, whiskery muzzle Warm, sweet, breath Giggles when Missy gives a nuzzle
Your humble beginning was a stone foundation, Laid by the weathered hands of a farmer and a father. You built up slowly, beams and boards your spine, And finally you shone red as a fresh picked apple.
Everything is frozen this morning, but the sky is clear An orange creamsicle sunrise through the mist Ice cream colors reminding me of the popsicles our fruits have become
Banging machinery and grinding gears You find yourself among your peers Foreign yelling fills the air Absolutely unaware Of what this place has in store
Remind me Tell me what I am Tell me what you think I should be I want to hear it Remind me Just ‘cause I’m female I just shouldn’t be here On this land
It sits in hard, smooth splendor There was a face here Once The wisdom of years and years Shriveled down to a compact plastic
Food is my ultimate weakness I have stop and lose these pounds Because now I am so sleepless Shedding off weight has too many secrets The sugary snacks make me look fat all around Food is my ultimate weakness
Plant a tomato See it grow as it strike it's root All the way to the natural Earth To sent nutrient to its fruit Live a life Then is cut Cut for consumption This one is for a pizza
I've heard about it back at the big farm. The Farmers told us that it's delicious. My Friends said: " Farmers are mean and cause harm." But they were nice and said I'm nutritious!!