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Day 20 | April Poetry Month Challenge | Raised by the Land

WFSC Creative Writing Facilitators Mike Deregowski and Kelsey Hoople challenge you to participate in national poetry month. 1 poem per day for 30 days with no working ahead. 😉

Overall theme 'The Great Escape'.

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Day 20 | April 20th | Raised by the Land

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27 de abr. de 2020

Raised by the Land

He grew up in the farm

but ran away

city has greener pastures

but heart broken and flat broke

greed and anger

drew him to drink

drew him to madness and violence

went back to the Land

where found peace and joy

fruits of his labour and dirt

Thieves saw the abundance

his pure heart and hard work

his redemption and genuine repentance

the Land bestowed and gifted him

pure joy and peace

Darkness envelopes the thieves

and came to steal, and destroy

killed violently like a wolf possessed

and then he is alone and gone

without fight and any chance of survival

the Land weeped

the Land wailed

the people came lined up

he's taken…


Linda Pedley
Linda Pedley
26 de abr. de 2020

20. Raised by the Land

We look to them for guidance

Their stories hold us spellbound

Though some extremes we question

Still they always hold their ground.

We study history while learning

Read how things were done in books

Yet sharing this with those who lived it

Gets us quizzical looks…

“Back in my day, we did it thus,

No time to sit and muse.

By harvest time the day consumed

Reading would not excuse.”

“I was barely out of diapers,

Long days I toiled no matter what

No TV, phone, video distract

Yet busy to evening from sun-up.”

The exaggerations – see what I mean

Child labor appeared out of hand

They would laugh and give a wink



21 de abr. de 2020

Raised by the Land


Time began, such a simple thing,

It amazes you with what you remember;

That leaf, fluttering in the wind, the water roaring

So close below; you give to it such surrender,

To become a part of something so whole.

But have you lost yourself, you ask,

In giving yourself, so full,

To a beauty that lays beyond the mask?

You see this tree, its bark stained by the rain

Of centuries-old-seasons-past,

Look closely now, the lines in its bark a map of pain

And scars of those times long gone to repast.

Why does it matter, you ask, to look and wonder

At these things long-gone-and-dead?

Your fingers find the old mulch, as you plunder,


Lana O'Neill
Lana O'Neill
20 de abr. de 2020

Raised by The Land

The innocuous seed, alone on a road

Takes flight in the whorl of a gust.

Sets down on the crust of a razed forest floor

As if beckoned by one who sees much.

Time has a way of healing burnt wounds

In conjunction with nature’s fine touch.

Watch! As the green of new life pushes past all the black

To keep a promise, we’ve all come to trust.

Lana O’Neill

April 20, 2020


Raised by the Land

Milk from our own cows

Grains for fresh bread, smells filled the house

That’s how we lived

No apologies, nothing to forgive

Cows, pigs, and Chickens

Some say they’re finger lickin’

Fruits to be picked by hand

And vegetables grown from the land

Everything we need

Could be grown from seed

Raised from birth

And plucked from the earth

As I grew,

I followed that life, too

Built a greenhouse for my vice

A 420 member’s paradise

Fed by the sweat of my brow

To live another way, wouldn’t know how

Now, too, I get high by my own hand

That’s what you do when you’re raised by the land

​​​​​​​​​​​©April 20, 2020

​​​​​​​​​​​J.E. McKnight

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