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. . .of Tractors and Grandpa's

Updated on April 22, 2014

All used up

Vintage hay cutter.
Vintage hay cutter. | Source
The crippled put out to rest
The crippled put out to rest | Source
Enduring all seasons.
Enduring all seasons. | Source
Their children were children. Now they are men.
Their children were children. Now they are men. | Source
My color faded. His did too.
My color faded. His did too. | Source
Nowhere left to turn.
Nowhere left to turn. | Source

Writer's note . . . I dedicate this feeble offering to all of the grandpa's and owners of the old tractors in my readership and what they both stand for and mean to me. Kenneth

Once, many days ago, I was new. And he was too

Sowing the seeds to a life so new. I was loved. He was too.

I was needed then. They talked to me for we were friends.

Their children were children. Now they are men.

From daylight slumber, I hauled his wire and lumber

I was strong, ever alert, never tiring --never a slumber.

We talked days numbered and cold; men weak and men bold;

Tales ne’er told with lies of gold.

Broken hearts, broken bones, and souls lost to their roles.

I watched him walk the most missing the step he had lost

Carrying the feed, sowing his seed, never touching his pantry’s cost.

Apples red, confidence dead, and I stood young at his side

Taking it all, tilling ‘til fall, and he so worn that he squawled.

My color was fading, and his was too.

We turned the soil while he laughed at the toil.

And kept vowing her secret so true.

Now I am old and he is too sitting still staring at you.

I remember his day, when she faded away

Leaving me to build and remember his ways.

The dark has fallen, she is still calling for broth, shawl and brew.

Time ticking by, dim eyes kissing his sky so blue.

All alone, Now that he’s gone. And tomorrow I will be too.

My toil is over



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    • kenneth avery profile imageAUTHOR

      Kenneth Avery 

      4 years ago from Hamilton, Alabama


      I offer you my thanks and appreciation for your kind words. I cannot tell you how much they, and you, are appreciated.

      If you still have the pictures of your uncle's farm, you best hold onto them for they make great ways to lose yourself in great memories when the stresses of life get to be too much.

      Thanks too for the votes.

      God bless.


    • kenneth avery profile imageAUTHOR

      Kenneth Avery 

      4 years ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Hi, Lrc7815,

      I thank you so sincerely for your sweet comments about this hub that told a small segment of my life as I lived on a farm that was not mine. My dad was a sharecropper and did an excellent job for the lady whose husband had left her a huge amount of acreage to tend and harvest.

      These years (on that farm) were the best years of my childhood).

      I cannot thank you enough for the comments and votes.

      God bless you richly.


    • Peggy W profile image

      Peggy Woods 

      4 years ago from Houston, Texas

      While I did not grow up on a farm they were all around us in the countryside of Wisconsin when I was a youngster. I wrote a hub about my great aunt and uncle's farm in North Dakota in the early 1900's and showed lots of photos in it. I was fortunate in getting to know both of my grandmothers really well and my maternal grandfather. My paternal grandfather died when my dad was a youngster so all I have gotten to know about him was through family stories and some written materials left behind. I really liked this evocative poem of yours!

    • lrc7815 profile image

      Linda Crist 

      4 years ago from Central Virginia

      Well, you had me from the title. I love old things and the memories they hold. As I have aged, I have also come to recognize the wisdom that comes with aging and wish I could have had more time with my grandparents with this new awareness. Looking back, the time I spent with them was so precious. Yes, like the tractor, their colors faded and their steps slowed but the love grew stronger. Family farmers, big or small, were such rich places for kids to grow up. Lessons on a farm don't always come easy but they tend to remain with us for life. The photos of that old tractor took me back, as did your lyric, to a place that will forever remain a treasure in my heart and mind. Thank you so much Kenneth. I am leaving you votes up, awesome, and beautiful and fan mail too. I look forward to following you here.

      As a lover of the old, you might enjoy my two pieces on "old barns".

    • profile image

      Kenneth Avery 

      4 years ago

      Hi, liangxinhuo,

      I appreciate your remarks about this piece.

      I wish you peace, happiness, and success.


    • profile image

      Kenneth Avery 

      4 years ago

      Dear sheilamyers,

      I sincerely thank you for your warm comments. Believe this or not, this one was tough in that it brought back a lot of memories for me. I love old tractors, pickup trucks, barns, and trains. Thanks so much. God bless you.

    • profile image


      4 years ago

      very impressive and remarkable

    • profile image


      4 years ago

      I love this poem. It's interesting to see life through the "eyes" of a tractor. I enjoyed seeing all of the photos.


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