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Array
(
[sid] => 170637
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Morning on the Farm
[time] => 2012-02-04 07:11:40
[hometext] => I am a country girl, but I don't life on a full-fledged farm. The guy I like, however, does. This is what I imagine his life to be in a few years.
[bodytext] => Steam rises in coils like patters on a frosted window, spiraling from his mug to Touch the dewy morning air. The expansion of his pride is covered in a quiet Blanket of warm darkness. The crickets continue their song that played on Throughout the night, waiting for a signal from the morning sun to quiet their Sonnet. He steps off of the white, faded wooden porch that held years of iced Tea drinkers and childrens' checker games in the long days of summers past. The tall barn's maroon hue is still hidden by the tarp of early morning. Coffee in Hand, he pushes the door open and is greeted by the grateful low of his faithful Animals, eager to feel his calloused hand on their velvety muzzles. He breathes In the comfortingly familiar scent of warm bodies and spilled feed. The old barn Is alive. An almost-obsolete lantern lights up the barn until he can find the light Switch. The sun is still completely below the horizon when he finally climbs up onto the Dusty seat of his tractor. The loud hum of the engine is what he has grown to Love. He knows that his day's work will bring an immense feeling of Satisfaction when the sun sets hours later. As he pulls out into the vast fields, He is thankful for the full life he leads. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 123 [topic] => 21 [informant] => alliestar1522 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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