The Old Barn
In barren fields where once was grown
Golden wheat in springtime sown
Still stands the barn from long ago
The ravages of years it's foe
For seasons of neglect atone
The whims of natures force are shown
Within it's walls her voice well known
Once proud timbers forced to bow
In barren fields
But yet it stands on feet of stone
With faded walls and weathered tone
Staunch against the winters blow
Remembering still the plow and hoe
Abandoned it now dwells alone
In barren fields
Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012
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