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| | From:  wileybill (Original Message) | Sent: 3/2/2008 4:34 AM |
Grass Seed
The reaper had been and the grass stood in stooks
In the light of the night like circles of spooks
But not one spooked the horses on this big day
That the mill lined up to thresh the grass seed away
It was an old Field Marshall tractor that set them off
With its popping and banging like a boat at the wharf
And so they remained for the rest of the day
Tied to the fence and chomping on hay
We brought in the stooks on wool packs open wide
And sewn together along the inside
They were hooked to harrow bars to lie flat
Dragging along like a carpet or mat
Without the horses we used tractors and truck
And as I was just a bit of a boy I had the luck
To drive John’s Austen right up to the mill
Where the men with forks were loading with will
Hunt’s old red mill was now tractor powered
By belt pulley the Massey 101 allowed
The big wheels to spin and shoot out the chaff
And although it was tough we all had a laugh
There was John and Gordon and I made three
And Charlie and George and Bill and we
Were helped by someone from Hunt’s I know not his name
And others who worked as hard and the same
Someone sewed seed bags on the side of the mill
And old Terrace Lea farm is at Te Pirita still
But nothing can compare with that day in the past
When we threshed that grass seed till evening at last.
Mark Thrice
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