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Trillium
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0 posted 2002-05-03 07:28 PM






The Harvest Crew

I see the threshing crew come in.
The harvesting is done.
Upon the air, the dust motes drift
Before the setting sun.
Beside the barn, the cows await
Their milking and their hay.
The chickens all have gone to roost.
The daylight fades away.

A door is opened at the house.
The lamplight spills without.
The evening meal is ready now.
A feast, there is no doubt
And then it's time to say good-bye.
Before the day is new,
They'll travel to a neighbor's farm
To help that farmer too.

Then it will be another year
Before they come again,
To reap their way through fruitful fields
Of ripe and golden grain.
They are a tanned and stalwart group.
Hard workers, every one.
We always miss their smiles and jokes,
When harvesting is done!



Betty Lou Hebert

Published by Western Producer Magazine, Canada 1998

[This message has been edited by Trillium (05-03-2002 07:30 PM).]

© Copyright 2002 Betty Lou Hebert - All Rights Reserved
Joyce Johnson
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Member Rara Avis
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1 posted 2002-05-03 08:31 PM


Memories, memories!  It was always a great time when th thrashers came.  I even worked in the cook car one season.  Joyce
Trillium
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2 posted 2002-05-04 12:30 PM


Joyce:  It was a busy, fun time. One of my jobs was to carry cold water and lemonade out to the fields for the men.  I also helped in the kitchen. Such mounds of food! It all disappeared too.

Betty Lou Hebert

BloomingRose
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since 2000-08-09
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Florida
3 posted 2002-05-04 09:03 AM


Guess I am a bit spoiled. Never had to work quite like that.
Good write.

Deb

Trillium
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4 posted 2002-05-04 01:36 PM


Deb:  It was long ago and far away.  Times have changed dramatically since then.  It left happy memories however.

Betty Lou Hebert

pegasus111
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since 2000-07-27
Posts 2219
ocala, fl, usa
5 posted 2002-05-04 05:16 PM


A healthy slice of Americana. Thank you for sharing this with a city boy...

the woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep, and many miles to go before I sleep...Frost



Trillium
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6 posted 2002-05-04 11:12 PM


pegasus111:  You're welcome!  Hope you enjoyed it!

Betty Lou Hebert

2dalimit
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since 2000-02-08
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Mississippi coast
7 posted 2002-05-05 02:22 PM


My parents traveled from state to state to make a living before WWII, but mostly in the cottonpickin' fields and vegatable harvesting. They said it was hard work, but honest.

Thanks for a glimpse of America.
Melton

Trillium
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8 posted 2002-05-05 05:27 PM


2dalimit:  I'll bet it was hard work!!  I picked beans one summer when I was about 16 and thought it was going to kill me.

This farm in the poem is actually in Canada where I grew up.  In the wheat country of Alberta.

Thanks for your comments.

Betty Lou Hebert

Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores
9 posted 2002-05-07 04:15 PM


BettyLou~
I've watch the citrus harvesting crews work just this way ... but, my favorite line in this piece is -

'The lamplight spills without'

What absolutely glowing imagery this brought to mind~
Lovely dear poetess~
*Hugs*
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
         noles1@totcon.com                    

Trillium
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10 posted 2002-05-07 05:33 PM


Marge:  Thanks so much for your comments. It is a memory from many years ago.  Glad you liked it.

Betty Lou Hebert

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