Old Farm Heritage

An Old Farm Heritage

Many, many years ago,

When the country was still new,

Pilgrimage was to this new world,

And our immigrant counts grew. 

Farming was a way of life,

A means of living and of toil,

A means of planting and of harvesting,

And worshipping the soil. 

Hard work and an early day,

Endless nights and countless chores,

Left the sturdy, relentless farmers 

Aching and tired to the core.

No time for fun,

No time for play,

Only time for God’s worship,

On Sunday,

 Sabbath day. 

This countries heritage did spread,

Farming grew a vivacious culture,

Different crops and animals alike;

A certain game of skills and conjuncture.

As industrialization soon took over,

The farm culture eventually withered away,

However the few humble and sturdy of the human character,

Take pride in this venture to this day. 

Poem & Photos: Ms. Forsyth