“The White Barn”
Up on a hill sits a lovely white barn,
Being rebuilt on an old family farm.
No tractor is plowing, no cows in these fields
Land sitting quiet, where once crops brought in yields.
I come here to sit, among grasses so tall,
To watch and take photos, thinking of farm life and all.
I can picture where children once played on the farm,
Maybe they helped stock hay in this barn.
The strong wind whispers, as it blows through the grass,
Of times that may come and how quickly they pass.
My time here is done, no longer can I stay,
Farewell for now, till comes another day!