Farmstead Intimacy

Let the aches and pains

remind me of the contentment

I experience when

working with my hands.

Gentle wind in my face,

sun caressing my back,

sweat stinging my eyes

as I work upon the land.

 

The smell of exposed soil,

memories of spring plantings,

struggling to curb my excitement

in anticipating of plants to grow.

Whether orchard or garden,

I reflect upon Nature’s wonder.

Smiling at sacred mystery,

when seedlings push-up from below.

 

Reflecting on loving advice,

when using tools of my forefathers,

what some would call toil

has evolved into poetry.

As I labor in quiet enjoyment,

witnessed by cottontails,

blue jays and squirrels,

I hum a thankful melody.

 

 

Poem by Fred C Appelhanz

 

 

Fred C Appelhanz lives on 30 acres over looking a valley. He is consumed with the beauty and mystery of Nature and never tires of the quiet. Sitting in his tree swing provides many opportunities of surprises by deer, bobcat or wild turkey’s. This setting of natural beauty has become his refuge from society’s insanity.