The Family Bible & The Farmers Almanac
(lee thomas miller/bob regan)
My fathers father was the wisest man I ever knew
Sixty years of education
Seven years of school
Farming kept his body strong
At night the only books he owned
Kepted his mind sharp as a tack
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
One came from his mother
Handed down the day she died
The co-op sent the other
Every year at christmastime
He knew the seasons to the day
Knew paul and peter by first name
He could answer any question he was asked
With the family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
He knew the way to get
Through this life to the next
While others spoke of faith
He found the facts
In the family Bible and the farmers almanac
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Autumn Almanac
From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar,
When the dawn begins to crack.
Its all part of my autumn almanac.
Breeze blows leaves of a musty[mustard? ]-coloured yellow,
So I sweep them in my sack.
Yes, yes, yes, its my autumn almanac.
Friday evenings, people get together,
Hiding from the weather.
Tea and toasted, buttered currant buns
Cant compensate for lack of sun,
Because the summers all gone.
La-la-la-la...
Oh, my poor rheumatic back
Yes, yes, yes, its my autumn almanac.
La-la-la-la...
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, its my autumn almanac.
I like my football on a saturday,
Roast beef on sundays, all right.
I go to blackpool for my holidays,
Sit in the open sunlight.
This is my street, and Im never gonna to leave it,
And Im always gonna to stay here
If I live to be ninety-nine,
cause all the people I meet
Seem to come from my street
And I cant get away,
Because its calling me, (come on home)
Hear it calling me, (come on home)
La-la-la-la...
Oh, my autumn armagnac
Yes, yes, yes, its my autumn almanac.
La-la-la-la...
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa!
Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa!
(etc.)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sestina
September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.
She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,
It's time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle's small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac
on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.
It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.
But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.
Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Idea of Ancestry
Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black
faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand-
fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts,
cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews.They stare
across the space at me sprawling on my bunk.I know
their dark eyes, they know mine.I know their style,
they know mine.I am all of them, they are all of me;
they are farmers, I am a thief, I am me, they are thee.
I have at one time or another been in love with my mother,
1 grandmother, 2 sisters, 2 aunts (1 went to the asylum),
and 5 cousins.I am now in love with a 7-yr-old niece
(she sends me letters in large block print, and
her picture is the only one that smiles at me).
I have the same name as 1 grandfather, 3 cousins, 3 nephews,
and 1 uncle. The uncle disappeared when he was 15, just took
off and caught a freight (they say).He's discussed each year
when the family has a reunion, he causes uneasiness in
the clan, he is an empty space.My father's mother, who is 93
and who keeps the Family Bible with everbody's birth dates
(and death dates) in it, always mentions him.There is no
place in her Bible for "whereabouts unknown."
poem by Etheridge Knight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Verse
I asked the child why did she curse
Her answer was, she knew not a Bible verse
She never went to church or knew how to say a prayer
So all that she knew, was how to curse and swear,
I was told that her mother had taught her well
But never taught her about heaven or even hell
And all that she knew is from what she had read
While listening to the words that her mother had said.
I asked the child why did she lie
Her response to me, it is better than to cry
As things got bad and then they turned worse
That's all that she knew, and she knew not a Bible verse,
Her mother had told her the things not to do
But then they differed from other's points of view
And all the child knew was from what she had seen
As she watched her mother, which was unforeseen.
I asked the child why did she steal
Taking from others for a terrible ordeal
She answered me, as she placed the goods in her purse
'It is the way that I am', and I know not of a Bible verse
Someday soon I will probably smoke and drink
Spoke the child to me as she began to think
But then am I not the girl that my mother did raise
And every day to my mother, I give her praise.
I asked the child why did she fight
She then said to me, it's better than being polite
Her mother's honor again she had to defend
And fighting is all that she could comprehend
So the child then wiped the pain off of her face
As she slowly walked away in sadness and disgrace
The last thing she said to me as we did converse
She said, I truly wish that I knew a Bible verse.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Last Of A Dying Breed
Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
In the struggle for parity, not one mans voice can sound
Cuz the foundation of the conglomerate is firmly in the ground
Yeah they wanna feed the world, but for power and for greed
Then theyll cut off the supply until they get what they need
Well I dreamed I saw a dustbowl where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying thru the sky, it had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning on the white house lawn
Just woke up one morning and the farmers all were gone
Well I hate to say the farmer was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land and taking what he needs
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
Dont say much for the future when a family cant survive
I hate to say the farmer was the last of his kind
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.
Pat Robertson in The World Almanac and Book of Facts (1993)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Does the Bible Tell?
The Bible speaks about the love of God
That’s infinite and unfathomable;
The Bible talks of love of man for God,
Their obeisance and faith amidst great strife.
The Bible tells of stories of persons
Who chose the path of righteousness to vice;
The Bible narrates accounts of men
And women who stood steadfast in faith amidst trials.
The Bible depicts how God tests man’s love
And obedience to Will of Providence;
The Bible reveals all secrets of life
That’s everlasting and all heavenly.
The Bible lists the sins that are mortal,
Abominable and hated by God;
The Bible shows the path of righteousness
That leads all souls to the Abode of God.
The Bible hints how God can punish as well
And send all evil-hearted down to hell;
The Bible has the Words of the Maker
That will come true when earth and sun shall end!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-24-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Of His Kind
Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farmer's Song
Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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“My Family”
My family is very strong like me
My family is actually very sweet
My family can be a little strict
My family always acts like this
My family is not always boring
When my family has things to do their flying and soaring
My family is actually sometimes crazy
Their even sometimes very lazy
Me trying to think about the facts of my family
Makes me laugh because I know I have a great family highly
poem by Va Rockeya Foy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Can't Family Be Family Again
why can't family be family again
we used to always be friends
we used to huddle together
whenever we got scared
we felt the warmth in one anothers arms
because we knew the love was there
we used to build forts out of whatever we had in our rooms
and wage sars
throwing pillows, books, and brooms
we used to have mini mosh pits
with just the four of us
we headbanged and pushed
we screamed and pretended to cuss
we used to protect eachother
we used to defend one another
we used to stand together like brothers and sister
when mom punished us we would all resist her
we used to be a family
a family that would always care
we used to be a family with more happiness than despair
we used to be a family that never hogged food or air
we used to be a family that told eachother we were there
we used to be a family
a family that sat down toghether and ate
we used to be a family full of our own ideas that we create
we used to be a family that got along without debate
we used to be a family with more love than hate
so why can't family be family again
and remember why those times were so good
why can't family be family again
and treat eachother the way we should
why can't family be family again
and throw the hate away
why can't family be family again
and invite the love to stay
poem by Marco Jimenez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Can't We Be A Family
why can't family be family again
we used to always be friends
we used to huddle together
whenever we got scared
we felt the warmth in one anothers arms
because we knew the love was there
we used to build forts out of whatever we had in our rooms
and wage sars
throwing pillows, books, and brooms
we used to have mini mosh pits
with just the four of us
we headbanged and pushed
we screamed and pretended to cuss
we used to protect eachother
we used to defend one another
we used to stand together like brothers and sister
when mom punished us we would all resist her
we used to be a family
a family that would always care
we used to be a family with more happiness than despair
we used to be a family that never hogged food or air
we used to be a family that told eachother we were there
we used to be a family
a family that sat down toghether and ate
we used to be a family full of our own ideas that we create
we used to be a family that got along without debate
we used to be a family with more love than hate
so why can't family be family again
and remember why those times were so good
why can't family be family again
and treat eachother the way we should
why can't family be family again
and throw the hate away
why can't family be family again
and invite the love to stay
poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always Think Of Heaven
When Family loves you, you can tell
Always think of Heaven; never Hell
When Family photos are taken, they exude all
Always think of Heaven; Peter and Paul
When Family is together, there is a word 'kiss'
Always think of Heaven; Genesis
When Family creates, the best feeling around
Always think of Heaven; actually solid ground
When Family reunions, are the years' events
Always think of Heaven; you are Heaven sent
When Family members, are graduating school
Always think of Heaven; actually really cool
When Family takes a fall, then just has to rest
Always think of Heaven; it will be the best
When Family has turmoil, agony and pain
Always think of Heaven; it actually helps again
When Family needs a break, in life's' game
Always think of Heaven; that's where the Lord remains
poem by Dwayne Banks
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2 Timothy 1: 7
What I have
I Love my Family 'I have a sound mind'
I Like Luciano Pavarotti
even though.I don't speak a word of italian 'I have a sound mind'
I love my family even though none of us had a choice in the picking :)
I Love my church family............ 'I have a sound mind'
I like the motto of the church on 1212 Hendrick called Faith Fellowship Baptist
Church.
'if the bible says, we believe it'
I Love Jesus, my family, friends and I have a sound mind.
I know God has wonderful things in store for me from this time forward!
'I have a sound mind'
poem by Sylvia Loven Carter
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American Heroes
she had one hand on her Bible,
the other at her throat.
they fired the volley,
folded the flag....
and buried her only son.
she didnt know about politics,
didnt know much about the war.
she only knew what she believed,
about right and wrong, , , ,
about her country, and salvation.
he'd been a good kid,
all boy, found trouble pretty easy.
but he listened to her,
and he believed what she believed....
he died fighting, scared, and unsure....
she had one hand on her Bible,
the other at her throat.
the sheriff.s dept. brought the notice,
foreclosure, she just couldnt pay....
the deputy looked down, and walked away....
American heroes, loss after loss.
clinging to the values they were taught.
she packed her clothes, her Bible,
and a picture of him....
smiling in his uniform.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With the permanent elimination of this tax, farmers and business owners will have the sense of security they need to plan for the financial future of their business or farm and their family.
quote by Doc Hastings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yellow-Covered Almanac
I left the farm when mother died and changed my place of dwelling
To daughter Susie’s stylish house right on the city street:
And there was them before I came that sort of scared me, telling
How I would find the town folks’ ways so difficult to meet;
They said I’d have no comfort in the rustling, fixed-up throng,
And I’d have to wear stiff collars every weekday, right along.
I find I take to city ways just like a duck to water;
I like the racket and the noise and never tire of shows;
And there’s no end of comfort in the mansion of my daughter,
And everything is right at hand and money freely flows;
And hired help is all about, just listenin’ to my call –
But I miss the yellow almanac off my old kitchen wall.
The house is full of calendars from the attic to the cellar,
They’re painted in all colours and are fancy like to see,
But in this one in particular I’m not a modern feller,
And the yellow-covered almanac is good enough for me.
I’m used to it, I’ve seen it round from boyhood to old age,
And I rather like the jokin’ at the bottom of the page.
I like the way its ‘S’ stood out to show the week’s beginning,
(In these new-fangled calendars the days seem sort of mixed) ,
And the man upon the cover, though he wa’n’t exactly winnin’,
With lungs and liver all exposed, still showed how we are fixed;
And the letters and credentials hat was writ to Mr. Ayer
I’ve often on a rainy day found readin’ pretty fair.
I tried to buy one recently; there wa’n’t none in the city!
They toted out great calendars, in every shape and style.
I looked at them in cold disdain, and answered ‘em in pity –
‘I’d rather have my almanac than all that costly pile.’
And though I take to city life, I’m lonesome after all
For that old yellow almanac upon my kitchen wall.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Why family?
WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE the FAMILY THAT DISREPECTS YOU?
WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE the FAMILY WHO TALK ABOUT YOU BEHIND YOUR BACK?
WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE THE FAMILY WHO CLOSES THE DOOR WHEN YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO?
WHY IS IT THE FAMILY WHO COULD CARE LESS ABOUT YOU?
WHY IS IT THE FAMILY who tell others your buisness?
Why does the family try to put you down?
Why does the family act the way they do towards one another?
Why does the family act like they’re not your family?
Why can’t the family just be family?
poem by Latedra Ellis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In six short years, small business owners and family farmers will once again be assessed a tax on the value of their property at the time of their death, despite having paid taxes throughout their lifetime.
quote by Doc Hastings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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