Posted in Priscilla's Posts

The Farm That Isn’t Mine

            In my English I’m learning about paragraphs. You had to choose one of the given topic sentences and write a paragraph about it. Although I don’t live on a farm this was my favorite pick.

                                     The Farm That Isn’t Mine                          

 I am glad to live on a farm. I love to hear the roosters crowing, the dawn has come. I love to feel the soft plowed dirt beneath my feet. I love to see the corn and wheat fields waving to the clouds, soaring on the wings of the north wind. I love to see the horses grazing in their fields, their tails swishing the flies away. I love to hear the zing-zap of the cow’s milk going into the milk pail, a cat walking by, purring for a sip. I love to see the clothes hanging on the line, snapping at anything that comes too near. I love to see the baby goats skipping in their pens, their mamas eating the sweet gum leaves overhanging the shed. And I love to see the farmhouse sitting on a hill with pear trees holding hands guarding against any predators. But the best is inside the farmhouse where the family is. It’s where the fun begins. The parties are made. The crying ends. It’s where we snuggle on the sofa and watch movies together. It’s where the meals are cooked, eaten, and put away. It’s where friends gather on a cold day to sip hot chocolate with marshmallows, the baby crooning to be held. Do you hear it? It’s where laughter fills the air and joy is the norm. It’s where we all go to bed knowing that work was done and done well. We sleep satisfied and wake to another day.

                                                                                                   Prissy