Asleep on the Farm

By Connie Cook in Poems

In the midnight sky there’s a thirsty moon

And it drinks up the darkness and lights up the room

In the little old farmhouse of Farmer McNeish

Where he and his Missus lie resting in sleep.

But how do they sleep? Well God only knows

For he snorts and he snores and she whistles and blows.

Over in the barn, the cows heave and sigh

As they low in the straw and heavily lie.

Up in the rafters the chickens align,

As they nod off to sleep, all set in a line.

And down in the hay kittens nestle with mother,

So deeply they burrow, you think they might smother.

Out in the doghouse there’s old faithful Rover,

Who growls in his sleep and gently rolls over;

Dreaming of groundhogs and other pests,

He chases them down in his dreams to their nests.

Still up in the farmhouse in noisy repose

McNeish lies a-snoring, mouth open, nose closed,

And beside him the Missus who whistles and blows

And beside him the Missus who whistles and blows.