Stacks Attack
some folks don’t!
I’m amongst the chosen few
One might say
we all are witnesses
to the capture of piles of stuff
and not all are bad, you see
Haystacks in a summer scene
bode winter food
for cows and horses and their needs
Stacks of money
aren’t that bad
especially if the money’s yours!
The stacks at libraries
speak treasures of words
inked for posterity, valued
treasured, for memories
and researchers looking
forklifts working
move ’em in and out
sorting what goes where
always moving
Stacks of laundry
stacks of papers
stacks of magazines and more
piles on desks and chairs, oh my!
Now we’re sinking down
End of day
a cleaned off desk
is a mighty precious thing
Going home
all in order
the bare desk calls out loudly
Free!
Lin, 2,2012
Wounded Hearts
but can’t find
exactly all the human dimensions
What we call ‘heart’
a case in point.
Neutrinos zoom
faster than light
continuing to amaze
and puzzle
Photons gather
yet appear in other places
continuing to amaze
and puzzle
Along life’s highway
babies are born
are locked in love for lifetimes
continuing to amaze
and puzzle
Death comes too
searing our hearts
landing with a thud
and breaking in to capture
hold us fast, in still motion
trying to grasp some meaning
understanding
my doctor friend is wont to say
and yes, we all know it
in our minds
Yet in our hearts we struggle
reaching back
drawing deeply
for the things that hold us
Music helps
soothing, giving vent
to warm tears
running down our faces
Hugs from friends and family
connections, heart to heart
sharing loss
Somehow in another dimension
one we cannot see, for now,
we sense a standing place
firm, above and beyond
the here and now
There is an empty tomb
there is a risen Savior
and He’s in the world today
walking, talking, along life’s narrow way…*
Lin, 1 Feb 2012
Easter Comes
Gatherings
here in Champaign County
a small group of farmers assembled
America, this is
where freedom of assembly
is a law of the land
Farmers and their land
a communion of sorts
people combing and brushing
seeding, tending and harvesting
soil, intellect, and labor combining
to grow the things that feed us
Ideas passed among them
How to do this better?
What do we need to…?
I think WE can change this!
Man faces here
some on their own
others pushed forward by spouses
together, an association was birthed
The “Illinois Farmers Institute”
Dekalb County, Kankakee County,
and Champaign County caught the scent
June, 1912, the words ‘Farm Bureau’ appeared
in an add, The Urbana Daily Courier.
The catalog company, Sears Roebuck,
sent a thousand dollars
Seed money, in need of match,
to hire a special person
a crop and soil expert
to help the local farmers
Two hundred and fifty people
mostly farmers
put their dollars on the line
the rest, we say, is history!
have put their names on a line
and joined Champaign County Farm Bureau
each a part of gatherings
for services wanted, met
through the hands and arms of people
Fertilizer, chemicals, seeds,
information gatherings, socials,
through the pain of the Great Depression
people saw the need to gather
combine their knowledge, come together,
forming companies.
Country Life, insurance company,
a creamery association
and a ‘service company’
to bring to farms the gas and oil they needed.
Illini Electric Cooperative, and Production Credit,
and Grain Association
ten companies, all together
moving progress forward
through the worst of times
into the best of times
This year marks one hundred years of gatherings
to bring soil, intellect and labor together
Now we pause, remembering, rededicating
to keep it going
make it even better
this day and tomorrow
Happy One Hundredth Birthday
Champaign County Farm Bureau!
Lin, 1/2012
East 80
a centennial farm has history!
memories scattered across a century
Each field has pictures
snapped and kept
in someone’s mind, to savor, ponder
My 80, she called it
Ida Augusta Bialeschki
who married a hard working guy
Alfred Warfel was very well known
as a premier hard worker, smart
Why, he could shuck a hundred
ears of corn in a day
working from dawn to dusk
A trader, par excellence
of anything to do with a farm
The east 80
lies east to west
along the Sadorus road
a little rolling, some flat spots
ponding is a problem
dark soil and lighter
you know a glacier was there
by rocks, found annually
rising from winter’s freezing, heaving
As a little lad
I worked with grandpa
forking up the hay
riding the hay rack home
Grandpa was fond of contests
races, if you will,
like when me and Francis (Butler)
tried to beat him
pulling millet
one end of the field to the other
Grandpa won, just barely
I think he strung us along!
The east end
held a school
gone before my time
except for well, standing alone
complete with pump and handle
Time was, grandpa plowed
round and round he went
stopping each round
to pump some water
for a leaky, ailing tractor
Awesome, his persistence
to save a nickel or dime
too little to lift a bale alone
would work together hoisting
a bale of hay up to the wagon
finally getting a load
Hard work, but we did it
laughing all the way
with grandpa loving us
With grandpa’s passing
a hedge row went
a bull dozer worked for days
Osage orange burns so hot
snapping and popping
sparks flying, fire roaring
all the trees were gone.
A life cycle completed
grandma and her sisters
watered the little trees
great grandpa planted
to break the wind
make a fence
yield longest lasting posts
For 60 years they did that
then went away for good
Four more rows of corn
where thorny trees once stood
My older kids remember
starting their farming there
learning about inputs
in order to have outputs, yields
marketing corn and beans
A year ago a feller
rode a scraper moving
back and forth
back and forth
carrying, distributing
carving out a path
for water to get away, smoothly
The curvy pathway marked in green
will let the water flow
let the crops grow nicely
and hold the soil so precious
Now I’ve farmed it 40 years
and this year’ll mark a generation
grandsons helping me
pick up rocks
like me and grandpa
and Francis Butler
Selah, Lin 1/2012
Time Was*
there was a treasure
buried in a field
One wise fellow
sold all he had
and bought the field
and so bought the treasure
A special farmer story
the wise ones know
and then invest themselves
in the treasured fields
Gerald Compton did that
I know
His family
his faith
his farming
his friends
His time here
went into those fields
I’m thinking he was a treasure
invested in us all
those fields pass to us
to walk in the footprints he made
to carry on
savoring knowing him
and being known by him
Some might picture
a red carpet rolled out in welcome
We might see emerald green
Corn, soybeans,
waving in a summer breeze
Wheat fields, hay fields
so beautiful
all leading to a smiling welcome
“Well done, thou good and faith full servant.”
Selah, January, 2911
Matthew 13:34
*For Gerald Compton, Gentleman
Father
wave after wave of memories
wash upon our lives
Indeed, I’m getting older!
Sometimes gentle
from childhood times…
I remember my step dad
lugging me up to bed
I was nine
and car travel made me sleepy
Good guy that he was
his strong arms scooped me up
and he carried me up the stairs
tucked me in
Many were the times
Sunday dinner finished
we sat at table and talked
debated, taking sides,
then half time
changed sides
and began again!
We spent a lot of time
our heads under a hood
looking at car engines
changing plugs and points
and other things
or lying on our backs
repairing u joints
or a hundred other things beneath
Special times were building
we lived in a good old house
frame solid, but needing change
to hold a growing family
We always talked when working….
Along life’s highway I grew up
bounded out of college, married,
and started my career
farming
24/7 at first
not knowing any better
He got tired
went home to rest
and I went on
day and night
His forte was patience
with me
We plowed and tilled and planted
tended and then came harvest
sun up to sun down and longer
we brought the harvest home
we both got
and sometimes a cut
we repaired, went on
task oriented
clear objectives
gulp down learning
do it better
keep up with the neighbors!
We were friends
Old age came to him
in Parkinson’s
the strong arms lost their strength
the legs wouldn’t function
bit by bit
his body failed him
then failure captured his mind
Finally, one long night,
I sat with him from midnight on
pneumonia squeezing his lungs
each breath so hard
I held his hand
patted him
and talked a lot of memories
The eyes closed
he labored on
then stopped
was still
except for a heart still beating
On and on it went
I called a nurse
Kind, she held his other hand
then he was gone
I hear him laughing
I hear him talking, debating
I remember our wrestling
So many things…
I attest the words:
“Well done,
thou good and faithful servant,
welcome home…forever.”
Lin, 1/2012
Master Sargeant Charles Joseph Clementz
Step dad