Country Love and Lore Scarecrow needs a new suit. What will the neighbours think, between our field and theirs it...
Weeding in the Tillage Field c.1969 Drizzly rain in for the day. The young lad, set to weeding the tillage-patch...
The Last Mile I ran from tail flicking Friesians their eyes, pools of nowhere, and when everywhere wore off I...
When They Ring Those Golden Bells Days fall away like apples from October tress cheeks, full and ablush, kissing silver from delicate wrists...
When Bob was married, he went hunting two or three times a year, but just getting out seemed more important...
Exhaust Down the country road I witnessed a lengthy cordial visit. An older man was gabbing colorfully with the farmer’s...
In 1916, when my great grandfather died at the age of eighty-two in Gallatin, Missouri, he left each of his...
The rural mailboxes that marked the turning point to farmhouse laneways dotting the Kansas countryside were landmarks to those wandering...
The results are in. The Judge’s Choice and the Readers’ Choice for Best Poem 2023 have been determined. The Milk...
After a successful launch last winter, we’re now upon the second annual initiative to award the best poem published on...
The inaugural Best in Rural Writing Contest has now come to an end. The Milk House is grateful to the...
How peculiar. Before, David had turned off the main road, walked up the potholed lane, climbed over a rickety stile,...