The wagon wheel now sits broken in the barn,
Grandma no longer spins her own yarn.
The fields are no longer plowed by mule,
And the kids not longer have to walk to school.
The old ways of the farmers were unsurpassed,
But are they really in the past?
Cherish memories from long ago,
Tell the stories so as a seed they will grow.
And we will never forget the times when,
The land was open and before bed each night we said amen!
Psalm 83:13
O my God, make them like a wheel;
as the stubble before the wind.
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