The snow-packed hills of this rugged valley
Where life becomes a test
Of strength enduring hardships
And mornings with little rest
There’s equipment in the store barns
That last season took a toll
Parts are scattered in the corners
Oil and diesel kill the mold
Cold air that others find refreshing
In some cheery distant land
Just makes the fixing tougher
And stings the exposed hands
The fields are laying fallow
As they wait out winter’s charm
I’m hoping spring comes early
So Peg don’t worry about the farm
I’ve got fence lines that need mending
And vendors wanting pay
The horses in the eastern stables
Are demanding morning hay
The work is never ending
And it’s filled with aches and strife
But I’d not change a single furrow
I could endure no city life
Poetry and Verse 