PRETTY ANGEL IN THE SCARECROW

I dreamt I was a pretty angel, standing in a field of corn,

When I awoke, I was a scarecrow, and with rags I was adorn,

I saw corn bent over, none were straight,

A coming storm, foretold my fate,

A spinning cloud roared through the cornfield, making this scarecrow, unborn.  

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THE COW, THE BULL AND KALAMAZOO

I drove on down to the old town, called Kalamazoo,

I bought at a bovine auction, a cow that goes, "moo",

I trained her to loudly sing,

About rainbows and gold bling,

She ran off with a bull, who wore a big brass nose ring.

HECTOR LOST HIS RIZZ

Hector lost his rizz, playing hide and seek with the chickens, cows and sheep,

People thought he had no bizz, being a creepy, farm animal creep,

Hector lost all of his charm, 

Lost his lady and his farm,

Hector searches around town, for a nice clean dumpster, where he can sleep.

THE MACAROON MOON

I went far off into space to find me a livable moon,

I wanted to move to a nice, warm moon, and move there real soon,

I found one that was pretty,

The moon was itty bitty,

My family all moved there, and baked two types of macaroon.

I STAND STRAIGHT UP, BUT DIZZY

I grow red potatoes on the side of a steep hill,

Most people can't quite stand up straight, but I have that skill,

I go hoe, hoe, hoe, hoe,

Then my potatoes grow,

Sometimes I get dizzy, until I take my heart pill.

FALL CORN ROAST WITH MEATS

We rurals  are celebrating the fall, by a mass roasting of corn,

Some want a pig, but I've been hungry for veal, since that new calf was born,

We roasted both farm creatures,

Allowed two main course features,

With ears of corn and two meats, every paper plate, was well adorned.

WILLOW WOOD IN THE RASPBERRIES

 There was a willow growing in my raspberries, and it was getting real big,

I went and sharpened my best shovel, and for the roots, I began to deep dig,

The tangled roots, I chopped out,

Filled the hole, and drank a stout,

I cut the whole tree into firewood, and next summer it will roast my pig.

PIGS IN A PICKLE

Farley was a chicken farmer, who was allergic to chicken meat,

So he would have to eat chicken eggs, if chicken he was to eat,

One day Farley ate some pork,

And new flavors he did uncork,

So Farley switched to raising pigs, and dined on their pickled feet.

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TOMATOES, THE BAD CROP

This years tomatoes, did not attain the size, big,

The foul taste was like an ancient, rotten, pine twig,

The plants were of bad seed,

I think bred from a weed,

Our labors been lost, the fruits aren't fit for a pig.

DRAGON POOF REVENGE

There was a fire breathing dragon, and he was acting like a goof,

The dragon, was dancing down the center of my big red barns, tin roof,

The neighbors got their varmint guns,

And, shot the dragon in his buns,

The pained dragon, blew his blazing breath, and all the farms around went, "Poof!"

HARD TIMES ON THE FRUIT FARM

My grapes have gone sour, and my berries have been defiled,

By some sort of a blue stink bug, that came out of the wild,

My fruit farm has gone funky,

I'm one unhappy monkey,

I have no sources of income, and my partner's with child.

WHERE THE OLD HEIFER WORKS

I new an old salty, heifer, many called her a cow,

If you called her a cow to her face, she gave you a pow,

It sounds screw lose, nutter bizarre,

But, she worked at a coffee bar,

Patrons fresh, squeezed their milk, which made the heifer a star.

A HOBO ATE MY HEIFER

I once owned a heifer, and her name was Jane,

She liked eating cow grass, out on the great plain,

She had, pretty, blond hair,

Won a prize, at State Fair,

She was ate by a hobo, he was insane.

I SCARE BIRDS, WITH MY CHERRY BOOM

Because my cherry trees are all blooming,

They will make fine cherries, I am assuming,

I'll have food to eat,

They will be a treat,

I'll guard them with my gun that goes booming.

HARD TIMES AND TURNIPS

I knew my finances were in trouble, when  I couldn't afford turnips, at the store,

When I can't afford to buy turnips, I know that I've become the poorest of poor,

So, I spade a piece of ground,

Planted turnip seeds, ten pound,

I will have so many turnips to hoard, my greedy, jealous neighbors, will make war.

MATILDA THE ROOSTER

My little rooster chicken, will never hunt,

His name is Matilda, and he is a runt,

He likes blackberry brandy,

And, hard cinnamon candy,

He can't hold his liquor; he pukes, to be blunt.

THE ROAM OF MY IDIOT POEM

I drove to beach to pick up some fresh oysters, and maybe a few dozen fresh clams,

There were sheep in the road, so I did the beep, beep, but ran over a couple of rams,

The sheep herder was real mad,

I gave him cash, all I had,

The herder was excited; his pain unrequited, he tossed me off a cliff onto some rocks, and with one broken arm, I swams.

BLUE TOTE ORGANIC FERTILIZER

My dear neighbor, has a herd of fat goats,

He collects their poop in plastic, blue totes,

He makes many a big buck,

When his totes fill up a truck,

Then from the truck, they're transferred to big boats.

EVIL UNDER THE BARN

There's a crawlspace underneath the old, stone barn,

Something bad lives there, and if it gets you, Darn!

It has sharp, smelly claws,

Big toothed laden, huge jaws.

The old beast creeps over a bed of hot skarn.

MY PARTNER AND I CONQUERED SPACE, AND RAISED MOO

We once built a space rocket, it was shaped like a shoe,

Didn't look aerodynamic, but it fly, flown and flew,

We burned it straight to Mars,

Sold electronic cars,

Then we bought us a ranch, and raised those cows that go moo.