Hunter's Moon Poem by Barry Middleton

the hunter's moon is coming soon
with coolness in the wind
summer's heat is tempered now
the rains are soon to end

across the valley sounds are heard
the father swings an axe
the cellar door is firmly pinned
its stores are safely packed

a shot rings out beyond the field
to fill the smokehouse walls
with venison and savory pork
before the winter calls

a stew is warming on the stove
and biscuits too await
the father welcomes suppertime
and bolts the garden gate

the family soon is gathered round
to bow their heads for grace
as father thanks the stars above
for blessings they embrace

the sun goes down and evening chores
are done by many hands
then laughing children head for sleep
to end the days demands

till dawn arises in the east
to mark a brand new day
when all will wake to face their tasks
whatever comes their way
~~~~~
This poem is inspired by fantasies of what life was like
on my great grandfathers farm three generations ago.