John Deere Days
77One day I watched my grandson and his dad riding the old John Deere tractor around the yard. I knew they would both remember these days of laughter and learning. So I wrote this poem.
My grass stained feet clutched the sides of that old John Deere. Daddy
had rescued it from a life of neglect and lovingly polished off the dust.
It was his pride, I was his joy and that old Deere was priceless to my five
year old eyes. At times Mama worried but he kissed her and told her to hush.
Then shaking her head she went about her work while Dad and I hooted and
gloated. She would cook breakfast for us while he kissed her until she blushed.
I remember being grossed out. Little boys don’t like girls-at least not then but
I sure do now. So I hid my eyes, pretended to gag until they both hugged me tight.
Then we wandered outside, Daddy and I. He handed me the key and I unlocked
the shed where that glorious machine was covered in tarp, waiting for the light.
There she stood, all green, yellow and covered in rust; just languishing alone but
forever ready to go. That old tractor always cut acres of grass with all her might.
Daddy winked and filled the tank, pushed prime the recommended three times.
Then I turned that engine on. She always sputtered and blew oil out onto the dew.
Daddy put her in gear and over the yard we flew. The seat was rusted out and often
it gave a buck and off we fell. He would grab me tight and roll, that was always my clue.
We burst into howls of laughter, shaking in fake fright while that green machine ran
on riderless, cutting crazy circles in the grass down the hill where wild kudzu grew.
Tickle tears ran down Daddy’s face as he gasped, “Nothing runs like a Deere!”
When it hit the fence, we pulled ourselves up and rescued the poor old thing once again.
That old tractor was dented and dinged. But she gave me that feeling and thrill when Daddy let me steer. When I handled that wheel, I felt six feet tall and thought I was ten.
The lines were uneven, the grass ragged and burned; the ancient oak was scarred and wary when John was around and the hedges had huge holes to show where she had been.
Those John Deere days warmed my heart on long, lonely nights spent at college. Home seemed far away and my friends were out on dates while I always stayed in studying my books.
At times my mind would drift back to those childhood days while the scent of fresh cut
grass seemed strong in the room. I wiped a tear and picked up the phone to call Daddy.
Those collect calls were accepted with love and grace. Daddy always made time to listen
and days later the mailman brought an envelope containing the cash that I needed so badly.
Years later, a scared young soldier got the news. Daddy was gone. His heart gave out. I sat in the desert sand crying like a kid and a friend gave me whiskey to ease the burden.
Did he hurt? Were there tears? When Daddy fell off that old tractor did my voice echo in
his ears for comfort? I think he just decided to go out that way-in the garden verdant.
His old green and yellow Deere still runs like a deer every weekend when we mow the graveyard. My boy and I ride while I try to hide my grief from him in the fresh air currents.
Sometimes we fall, though the seat is shiny and new. But a man can pretend. So I grab him and roll, then I lie on the ground beside my Dad again. “Remember when?” I begin.
Then the promise is vowed clear and proud. One day my son will remember his own Daddy and John Deere days. In his mind a beloved tractor will forever remain within as he becomes a man.
My Dad by Paul Peterson 1964
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A.A. I love a man who is on time just waiting for me to hit the publish button. laugh Thank you kind sir for your visit and comments.
My husband used to hook the little red wagon on behind the mower. The boys would pile in and ride around behind daddy. One day I was filming them on video, they went behind a tree and when the wagon cane out, only one boy. They got to playing around and one fell out. Another time, my husband was mowing along the edge of the woods. He kicked a branch back out of the way and the hornets came buzzing out. They all abandoned the mower right where it was. It didn't run as fast as they did.
Good poem, it brings back memories.
Lovely poem Hyphenbird and great tribute to dads. There's nothing like male bonding over a john deere.
Oh, I want to go for a ride! Fun, poignant, and well written.
Awesome, Hyphen
Hyphen this is so lovely, sharing your memories of your Dad with us. You had a wonderful childhood and have gathered many precious moments
Rosemay, this is not my memory of my dad. This was inspired by seeing my grandson with his father. I am so glad you find it lovely and thank you very much for coming by.
Hello Hyphen. This was very nice, good pitch, even flow, a natural cadence - where can I vote? Ok up at the top there.
Becky that is scary and funny at the same time. Those boys must have been running for their lives. Thanks for sharing that.
Hi Lynn. I don't get it myself but guys seem to love those things. I am glad you liked the poem and thanks for stopping by.
Hi Ann. I know. It does look fun for a while but I am happy to pay someone to mow. laugh The experience of a father teaching his son though is really priceless. I am so pleased to bring you a smile.
You brought back nice memories for me....My husband taught out four daughters to drive on his old John Deere before he would teach them to drive a car. They still talk about how much fun they had with their Daddy mowing the pastures when they were kids. I love this video,too.
Hi mckbirdbks. Thanks so much. I worked on the almost rhyme by using similar flowing words. I appreciate your letting me know you like it. Thank you!!
Dear Hyph,
Brought a little tear..I remember my dad putting the boys on the riding mower and the fun they had..I too put Xavier on the front of ours..such a fun time. I loved your poem..so sweet and thoughtful. Wonderful memories..
Thank you for sharing your heart.
Love,
Sunnie
Hi Mary. That is a great idea to get children used to steering and using brakes. It is my pleasure to be part of your memories. Thanks for coming by.
Hello Sunnie. Thank you for the sweet comments. You and Xavier have great fun together. I must leave the riding memories to others. I just feel like I am falling all the time and get laughed at for "screaming like a girl" by my boy. Have a wonderful day.
Beautiful and touching. Your dad would be proud to read this. I remember times when my dad would take me out with him for some one on one time. Those still are charished moments in my life. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.
Hi tlpoague. This isn't about my own dad but I think he is proud of me anyway. Sharing this is my pleasure and I am glad you stopped by. Thanks for your well wishes.
Thanks for a wonderful ride on that ol tractor. Nothing like the love between a father and a son/daughter. So glad you were able to witness it all -- and share it.
Well I'm glad Sunnie said that it brought a tear, i'm sitting here with my eyes and nose both running like a fountain..Brought back a memory or two..That old John Deer sure cut a lot of grass. Thank you..Beautiful..Hugs
Thank you Sally. My grandson still has fond memories of that old John Deere. I have pictures somewhere. Somewhere being the operative word. Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate you very much.
Great poem, Hyphen. What wonderful memories your son has and now your grandson has of good 'ol John Deere. I love stories/poetry like this. When I read this, I felt all is right with the world. Another creative genius of a poem!
always, you are so very special to me. I am so very pleased this poem touched you and impacted your heart. Thank you for your incredibly lovely comments.
I can see it is time to order another plaque - 100. On the horizon.
Thanks Suzette. The old John Deere has brought a lot of fun times to families. I love your statement "all is right with the world", it is so perfect. Thank you very much Suzette for coming by.
Hi mckbirdbks. Yes it is coming up fast. This contest has pushed the numbers up quickly. Thank you for noticing.
I was driving a John Deere at 10 years old!
Thanks for that Paul Peterson video...I had forgotten he sang that!
I am glad to spark old memories for you WillStarr.
My parents live in the town where John Deere was born and the factory still runs. Lovely poem and thought.
Hello ewelz51. Do they offer tours? My grandson would so love to do that. I am glad you came by to read this and thank you very much.
I'm gushing like a fountain and I don't even own a John Deere. Those delightfully written thoughts and cadences ring so true to life and bring back memories made with our dads whether participant or observer; memories of fresh mown fields and the range of senses that come along with the green. Lovely poem.
PegCole, you are so funny. I appreciate that very much. I hope my grandson one day appreciates it like you do. Fathers are so important to a child especially a son. I saw a TV documentary that presented statistics showing 80% of men in prison did not have a father in their growing up years. That is tragic and very sad. Perhaps my little poem will inspire a father to make the time well spent with his son. Thank you so much for you lovely comments and time.
This is excellent Hyph - I hope your son and grandson continue to inspire you!
Brought back some wonderful memories and smiles for me of my own interraction with John Deere.
I'm sitting at an office desk, and for a few moments while reading this, I could have sworn I caught the scent of fresh hay. ;) (Sigh ... )
Hello femme. Your pleasure makes me so happy myself. I love that writing and poetry especially can bring us a moment of respite where ever we may be. Enjoy the scent of fresh hay. Thank you very much for your lovely comments. You are always a great support and encouragement to me.
Hi HB,
I loved this. Very touching and beautifully written. Brought back some great memories. I always loved being my "Daddy's Little Helper."
Sharyn
Hi Sharyn. I am so pleased you liked this one. It is so sweet to remember how our fathers shaped our lives and taught us so much. Thank you.
An incredible story of the love and cherished memories around a John Deere tractor. Bonds like this can never be broken and are being established all over again in the next generation. This title caught my eye, as we have a "Dear John" as we call him, also. He doesn't know the laughter and love of children, but one day I hope children (my future grandchildren) will be a big part of his lawn cutting life and special memories will be created. I absolutely love this story and all the family love and devotion it encompasses.
Sending my best wishes, my votes and sharing.
Annie Fennelseed
Dad.... such a wonderful man he is! All his life... he silently cares... " The Silent Guardian" won't even tell you he has a problem or two! hehe... The strongest one...
he knows it all, he does it all... for us without a word, without pain..
Dad's love is unseen and infinite!
A great poem ma'am... away from Home now I am reminded of my father...
Thank you! For such beautiful verse
Hello Annie. Indeed these memories are the stuff that character comes from. I am so happy that your own Dear John will be a part of family history. It is funny and wonderful how an inanimate object becomes so beloved, isn't it? Thank you for finding this Hub and sharing it. It is one of my personal favorites.
rahul0324, you are so right. The Silent Guardian is such a great description. I am so glad you enjoyed this tribute. I hope you get to see your family soon. Thank you for stopping by. You have greatly encouraged me.
A.A. Zavala Level 7 Commenter 6 months ago
Beautiful poem and memories Hyphy. Touching...