Folks' Poems

Back to Lariat Laureate Contest
Back on home
Back to the list of Folks' Poems

CINDY LADAGE
Virden, Illinois
Cindy Ladage's web site
About Cindy Ladage

 

 

Outback

Out back lie iron hunks of metal
That once was the heart of the farm.
Tractors and old trucks in their former glory
Just waiting to be restored and remind us of their story.

Like cowboys of old
We remember the days.
The stories, the memories they could tell
If only old tractors could write, rhyme and spell. 

Each rusty fender is not just a part
Of equipment left behind
Their legacy are the hands that turned the soil
That eased the back and lessened the toil.

Not growing up on the farm
Just coming to it as a wife
I am still learning my way.
That life on the farm changes day by day.

Twenty, thirty, forty years have passed
For some of the old workhorses outback,
But rather than we just forget ,
Let's remember, let's restore!

Brought back to life
Those tractors sing, a song all their own.
Old iron is a part of our past.
Let's make those memories last
 
So, out back lie iron hunks of metal
That once was the heart of the farm.
Tractors and old trucks in their former glory
Just waiting to be restored and remind us of their story.

2002, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

The Lonesome Wind

Behind the wheel of a tractor
Is a clear glimpse of fallen snow
Moved aside with the swift blades movement
Off with the wind I see it go.

Wrapped in a hooded sweatshirt
And coveralls, gloves and boots
My farmer/cowboy husband
Aims his tractor and shoots!

Around the porch it rattles
Driving a cold chill wind
The lonesome sound of winter
I hope spring is around the bend.

Walking the dog in the morning frost
Ice clings to the limbs of the tree
Coyote tracks are too near for comfort
They are hungry and roaming free.

The lonesome wind wraps around me
I hear the soft moan at night
Telling me all is well at our homestead
Even in winter's dark night.

So I bear the chill and brace myself
For the last icy blast of breeze
Realizing April really is coming
Pushing winter to its cold knees.

2003, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Dusty Memories


Laying among the treasures
Looking lost and out of place
Was a man's memories-
That time cannot erase.

I found it at a flea market
A tattered, yellowed book
A scrapbook of a cowboy's memories
And the rodeo rides he took.

The pictures are in black and white
He wore a hat with a big wide brim
His horses name was Buck
And the Cowboy's name was Slim.

He had pictures of winning
A time or maybe two
His grin split from ear to ear
This was obviously something he loved to do.

Farming was his livelihood
Riding was his passion
Later pictures showed his wife
And the life they fashioned.

A lone picture of Buck
Standing beneath an Oak
Ended the scrap book
On a lonely but proud note.

No one is left to claim
The memories he carefully saved
No one is left to cherish
The path he paved.

I had to have it
Though I didn't know a thing
About Slim or Buck or his wife
Or what this book could bring.

It really didn't matter
His photos said it all
A man his horse, his farm, his story
Recorded from his spring to his fall.

2003, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


 

Beautiful Day in July

House needs tending.
The grass needs mowed.
Peas need picking,
And the garden needs hoed.

The gas tank's empty,
In the truck and old Allis C.
Gray clouds are gathering
Right over me!

Postman brings bad news,
But the dog wants to walk.
He is begging and howling
Doing his dog talk.

"Let's play," he tells me
while the sun's in the sky,
Summer is fading
It will soon be the end of July.

Weeds can wait
Kids grow too fast
The farm is in neutral
But when fall comes it won't last.

Come play take a moment,
He pants in my ear.
Whispering things about flowers
And nothing to fear.

The house needs tending.
Ditches and roadsides need mowed.
But they have to wait the dog and daughter
Want to walk down the road.

It didn't cost me a penny,
Not nary a dime
But that walk restored my sanity
When I shared my time.

The piles will pile up,
The chores will multiply.
But who can care
On a beautiful summer day in July?

2004, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Cindy told us: I wrote this poem when I had a list a mile long and my Australian Shepherd Sherman and daughter Allie were both begging for a walk.  So, we set the chores aside and enjoyed the day instead.  The chore list was just as long
when we got back, but they didn't seem so insurmountable!

 

Heading South

We headed south like geese
Migrating from the snow
Traveling until we saw flowers
That's how far we'd go.

A stop at the Battle of Vicksburg
Ghosts of Western riders, southern cowboys who died
Along with Midwest farmers and northerners
Blood and tears have dried.

On south like a cattle drive
The Natchez Trail we traced
Our way down to the place of Spanish moss
And plantations time has not erased.

Stories of those that lived in homes
Fortunes won and lost
The War Between the States
Exacted quite the cost.

On to the Gulf down Biloxi way
To Jefferson Davis retreat
After the war
And the southern defeat.

Sadness mixed with beauty
One more southern sight to see
We toured the USS Alabama
Before heading northerly.

Nashville's blue grass rhythms
Helped put the ghosts to rest
And made weary farmers
Realize we are truly blessed.

Back in the fields of home
With planting soon to start
The south pulled us like a magnet
But home still has our heart.

We headed south like geese
Migrating like cattle drives of lore
Searching for what we had all along
On the land locked Illinois shore.

2005, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


Cindy told us, "This poem was inspired by our trip south a while back. The beauty of the South was both haunting and memorable"

 

To Make the Crop

The grass is getting brittle
Browning from lack of rain.
The corn is tassling
Waiting to frame
The ear that will make the crop.

The soil is dry and cracking
Hot oil bubbles on the country road.
The corn leafs are a curling
Corn borers and Japanese beetles load
Danger to the crop.
 
The sky lights up with lightening
Thunder vibrates and scares the dog
Rain drops heavy and scarce
Hit whack! Against the hollow log
Bathing the corn and soybean crop.
 
The farmer ventures out
And peaks at the rain gauge with fear.
That the amount is not nearly enough
Since moisture has been so dear
It is needed to make the crop.
 
Horses whinny
The cows they low
In the dry pasture
Where the grass won't grow
For the livestock who need the crop.
 
Prayers rise like steam
From a summer pond shimmer still
Requesting assistance asking for help
Winging the message "Please Lord fill"
The ears and the pods to make the crop!

2006, Cindy Ladage
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


Cindy told us: This poem came about during the summer drought we were experiencing in central Illinois. The rain finally came, but until harvest really gets rolling we won't know if it was enough or not. 

 

 

About Cindy Ladage:

Cindy Ladage tells us that a version of "Outback" appears in Belt Pulley Magazine, an antique tractor publication she writes for.  

Cindy says "I am a freelance writer and contribute mostly to rural publications.  I have co-authored a children's farm book titled Tucker's Surprise and one called The Christmas Tractor, and written two short story collections, Porch Swing Tales I and Porch Swing Tales II.   If anyone has questions for me, they can contact me at Cindy Ladage, 35216 E. 5th Rd., Virden, IL  62690, or email.

See Cindy Ladage's web site for more about her books.

 


   

Cindy's 2006 novel, Where Did Laurita Go?, is available from Publish America 
(ISBN: 1-4241-2019-5)

 

 

www.cowboypoetry.com

 

HOME

 What's New | Poems | Search

 Features | Events  

The BAR-D Roundup | Cowboy Poetry Week

Poetry Submissions 

Subscribe | Newsletter | Contact Us

  Join Us!

 

Authors retain copyright to their work; obtain an author's
permission before using a poem in any form.

 

CowboyPoetry.com is a project of the Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry, Inc., a Federal and California tax-exempt non-profit 501 (c) (3) organization.  

 

Site copyright information