The noise of the farm never grew old.

You always heard, 

A moo from a cow,

 A baaa from a sheep,

A cuckoo of a chicken,

A whine of a horse,

That’s the sound you always heard.

           The sound of the machines,

A honk to scare away the birds,

A clang of all of the things hitting each other,

A bang of all of the animals running into their stalls,

That’s the sound of machines.

The sound of children,

A giggle,

A whisper,

A blurt,

A squeal,

That’s the sound of children.

The noise of the farm never grew old.

The sounds of the farm around dusk,

A chirp,  

A whole lot of ruckus between the animals, 

A wolf howling in the background of the moon,

The crickets chirping in the warm damp grass,

          That’s the sound of the farm around dusk,

The noise of the farm never grew old.

The sound of breakfast,

The orange juice splashing into the clear glass cup,

The sound of the french toast sizzling on the skillet,

The sound of the fruit getting chopped up,

The sound of the egg shells getting crack on a pan,

That’s the sound of breakfast.

The noise of the farm never grew old.