©Jan Millward, 2018

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On the silage.

June 1, 2017

They have greased up the old mower,
and lined the silage pit.
They have watched the weather forecast
and everything is fit.

The trailers have their sides on,
the buck rake's on the tractor.
the guys have dug their flasks out,
and they've phoned up the contractor.

Everybody's ready, the sun is shining bright,
and sandwiches and kitkats
will keep them going through the night.
The grass is cut and wilting,
the sugar's running high.
 The forager starts grunting
under a clear blue sky.
The tractors and the trailers
are driving to and fro.
The cowman moves his cattle, 
and then goes off to mow.
The forager is roaring
like an angry beast.
Eating up the acres
for a winter feast.
The driver of the buck rake
is building a neat heap,
rolling all the air out
reversing, beep beep beep.
It needs some concentration
to roll right to the edge,
with one wheel in the silage
 and the other on a ledge.
The sweat drips off the drivers
and the empty trailers rattle,
and the smell of sun and silage
attracts the neighbours cattle.
The sun is getting lower
and the sky has turned blood red,
but they will keep on going
as others go to bed.
With one eye on the weather,
they will try and fill the clamp
until the dew starts forming 
and the grass is getting damp.
Then they will park up ready 
to do it all again,
and pray the sun keeps shining
and drives away the rain.
And when they take their boots off
their socks are full of bits
which they walk up to the bathroom,
and when they  take off all their kit.
There's grass inside the toilet
and stuck around the shower
is dirt and dust and grass seeds
and a daisy in full flower.
Good luck to all on silage
it's long hard hours each day
but just be bloody grateful
it's not small bales of hay!
Jan Millward©


 

 

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