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| Ode to An Orchard (MFB April 1969) Icy mornings fingers tortured Joys of working on an Orchard. Looked-after hands just go west There's no looking at one's nest. Any clothes that are hard-wearing Are the order of the daring. Climbing ladders, climbing trees Falling out and grazing knees. Picking careful, watch for bruising There's no time for extra snoozing. In the shed, its very hectic Keeping up makes life electric. Packing fast, pull down bins No time to regret past sins. Apples, apples everywhere Keep on working, don't stand there. Call for trays, more are needed Brows with sweat are getting beaded. Careful now, lift the case All this packing's like a race. One night a week, ourselves we pamper For Friday night to town we scamper. After all is said and done Orchard life can be fun. Social life can be elastic Meeting people is fantastic. Some are interesting, some are boring and there's some who like amouring It's for sure these months have been Exhilerating, fresh and clean. |
| For anyone who knows the pace of working picking and packing apples. On working holidays in the South Island of New Zealand in 1967 and 1969, I worked on the same apple orchard twice and shared a 'batch' with 3 other girls each time. These poems were written in 1969. |
| The Orchard Batch March 1969 On a hill the batch does stand Reigning over orchard land All alone among the pines Bare of all industrial signs. From the door we gaze upon Hills and mountains over yon' From the window, beyond the farms We view the sea so quiet and calm. The pines, they tower tall and brave Guarding all there is to save. Apple trees, abound 'tis true Providing work for us to do. When the sun is shining bright The peaceful outlook is a sight. A thankful feeling comes to me When such a view is here to see. ~MFB~ |
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| The painting "Little Red" is copyrighted (c) by Tom Sierak and was used by Moon and Back Graphics with his permission |
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| Page made 20 November 2001 |
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