Farmyard Antics 73 Poem by Phil Soar
Farmyard Antics 73
Those farmyard sounds we all know well
The barns, the sheds, that farmyard smell
All have a place in the countryside
And we take them all within our stride
A Sunday afternoon with sheep
Makes you want to fall asleep
While a day with pigs is not so pleasant
Makes you want to shoot a pheasant
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: farm,fun
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12/21/2025 10:07:58 PM # 1.0.0
I remember the pig smell. Did you mean peasant?