“A little sapling raised from seed,
A fenced-in yard where she can feed
A flock of yellow ducklings there,
A quiet barnyard broad and square
With a wide watering trough and well,
An old cow with a dented bell.
A country woman has a sense
Of home within a sturdy fence
This house and barn, this bit of land
Is something she can understand
As being part of all she knows,
A garden patch, a budding rose.
The pasture is a fragrant place,
of meadow rue and Queen Anne’s Lace
A little stream that wanders by
Reflecting quiet bits of sky
Where little newborn things can run
And kick their heels against the sun.
She knows the newly seeded field
Will bring one day its precious yield
of ripened corn or golden golden grain
In answer to the sun and rain.
And all is part of her somehow–
The furrowed field, the scented mow.
Her simple pleasures and her toil,
Are rooted deep in country soil.”
~by Edna Jaques~