They learned to drive
a tractor at the age of eight.
could deliver a lamb
(or a calf probably)
before they went to school.
When I arrived at their house
I dodged dogs barking: ‘oh
he’ll never hurt you’ at odds
with my fear.
They always cooked for twelve.
We could play in barns
full of hay and straw, taking care
not to be crushed to death
by falling bales.
Their cats lived outside,
their litter tray a pile of sand.
They ate
everything on their plates, even the fat.
Grew their own vegetables and fruits,
enumerated runner bean hauls,
raspberry baskets, plum punnet
and made loganberry jam, whatever that was.
I liked books.
extraplorer 
I really enjoyed this poem; part of the reason for that was because I could identify with the speaker, having been a town-boy with a farmer friend I spent many happy hours feeling like I was in a different world when I visited them. I think what I liked most, however, was the way you presented the farming family; much like them, this is a plainly-spoken poem, but one which retains the very charm which makes the experience unforgettable. The final line was a perfect sign-off.
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Thank you so much for your comments and for sharing your experience. I loved thinking about this aspect of childhood and the different feeling of that way of life.
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thank you for sharing , you words brought back long forgotten memories
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Thank you for your comment Parth. I hope you enjoy the memories!
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