Refreshing and wholesome, delightful with charm,
A holiday out on a big country farm.

A tall windmill turning, the low of the cows,
Birds nesting and singing in blossoming boughs.

The crow of the rooster before break of dawn,
With diamonds of dew sparkling cold on the lawn.

Hickory-smoked ham and fresh eggs to fry,
While flapjacks are piling with butter nearby.

How thick, sweet and red, strawberry preserves,
And the waking-up welcome such good fare deserves.

Hens singing and cackling out there in the sun,
Soft kittens to cuddle while frisky pups run.

With piglets and calves and fuzzy new chicks,
And the old turtledove builds her nest out of sticks.

Later on wheat turns golden, and corn is dark green,
With ripe fragrant hayfields all tucked in between.

Great, free open spaces and low, rounded hills,
And at night lonely music of shy whippoorwills.

Bright stars seem so close, and in sweet flowing streams
Big bullfrogs’ bass booming delights every dream.

From rosy predawn to gold setting sun,
We’ll work every minute but it will be fun.

Published in the 1969 Rustic Ideals issue