Tried my hand at today's Sunday Swirl where each week 11 words are posted as a prompt for a wordle. A wordle is the name for a short composition using all the given words.
Early morning I smell sweet hay,
hear a cock crow,
then a rustling raises dust clouds
The threat of rain I see nearing
What do the hens know of weather?
A dry summer rendered cows
parched and useless; word spread
there might be some kind of plague
Then, sounds like wild banshees
or monkeys screaming
come from inside the old barn
Whole nests filled with fresh eggs
topple from their perches
as chickens fly against barbed wire
Flying higher than the pen itself,
the only way out, but that would just
make them more vulnerable
to the coyotes that appear,
just past the field below,
beyond the knoll
Dogged and weary they growl
and slink away
We have prayed for a break
from the blasphemous heat;
it feels no different in the shade
- if only we could sit awhile
on the porch with a deck of cards
drinking cool lemonade
But this is home,
we've endured many years
in all kinds of weather
Our small farm is dear to us
although we cried many a tear
not for just flying feathers
The losses of horses and pets
was the hardest to take
The toll taken is well worth the
nasty cotton thorns
Why I always look past winter
into the spring
For I know all begins anew,
food and water will easily keep
Green grass grows, the well is full,
and the only activity is birdsong
and cries of babies being born
