I love hay-bales. How they shine in the sunlight. How they smell so sweet. I have many memories of jumping from bale to bale in bright barns or in sunny fields. So of course, I had to write a poem about it.
Hay Bale Days
Our parents were busy in the shop
So we wandered away
To find the bales and eagerly flop
On the bound-up piles of hay.
They lined up in that empty field
We hopped from one to one
You could hear as laughter peeled
It was simple, but such fun!
And we stood up there and we looked down
At the metal barn and pond
At the gravel road that ran from town
Here we’ll always have a bond.
It was years ago
But I’ll never forget
That joy so far from woe
Come now, let’s sit
On the bales again
And watch the road below.
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