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"Someday, son, all this will be yours"
World's Worst Farmer
Lewis Baumgartner
Many of us, especially those in my generation, lament the declining number of family farms. We see multi-thousand acre operations, monstrous machinery, agri-business mega-mergers and we realize that a way of life is fading fast. We remember the way it was and we are sorry that our children, grandchildren and future generations will most likely never know the pleasure of growing up on a diversified family farm.
I was driving through the countryside one winter evening; not in any hurry, just enjoying a leisurely drive. As I passed farmstead after farmstead, it suddenly occurred to me that no one was out doing chores. I began to reminisce about my days as a youth on the farm. Most everybody had crops and livestock . In my neighborhood, usually beef cattle, a few hogs, chickens and maybe even some sheep. All the kids had chores to do. I thought about how much things had changed in that 40 some year period and a melancholy feeling swept over me. This poem kind of describes the way I was feeling. I hope you enjoy it.
There’s No Lights On In The Barn
Not so many years ago,
If you were to take a drive,
Across America's farmland
And thru the countryside;
If by chance your ride should happen,
As the day was nearly done,
Most every farmstead on the road,
Would have the barn lights on.
The farmer and a kid or two,
Or maybe even more.
Each one busy with a task,
Doin’ up the evenin’ chores.
Milk the cow, feed the chickens
And gather up the eggs.
Throw some hay down from the loft
And water the sow and pigs.
Sometimes my mind will wander back,
And I’ll recall those days, now gone,
Of peaceful winter evenings,
And the lights on in the barn.
The smell of all the cattle,
Mixed with the grain and hay.
To me it was a pleasing smell,
Though, to you, it may not sound that way.
And while filling up the water tank,
I’d watch the cats at play.
A nearly perfect ending,
To another busy day.
Then gazing toward the house,
I could see the kitchen light.
Momma’s fixin’supper,
To feed us all tonight.
And the warm glow from that window,
Made this country boy work hard,
To get in to that apple pie
And that chicken fried in lard.
But the trend today is larger,
And fewer family farms.
Not so many places left now,
With the lights on in the barn.
They tell us that it’s progress,
And nothin’ stays the same.
We must look toward the future,
And not the past from where we came.
And I know, that is true,
But tell me, what’s the harm?
If I feel a twinge of sadness,
Cause There’s No Lights On In The Barn.
Everything is gettin’ big,
And no one seems alarmed,
That the chickens and the hogs now,
Are mostly raised on Factory Farms.
We’ve taken out the fences,
And..the barn.... it’s been torn down.
It takes a lot of room,
To turn 16 rows around.
My favorite memories take me back,
To the way we used to farm.
To a peaceful winter evening,
With the lights on in the barn.
Copyright 2010 World's Worst Farmer.: Humorous Speaker. All Rights Reserved
