At one Kansas farm, it was time to cut wheat
Two young girls, Grandpa Randy did greet.
They arrived with their mom, to the field they did go.
But upon their arrival, winds started to blow.
The skies became dark, though it wasn't at night.
All the lightning around gave Grandma a fright.
No picnic for supper. No stopping to eat.
Get into the combine: It was time to cut wheat!
Off they did go, as the thunder did rumble.
But even before the rain started to tumble
A belt on the combine, it split right in two.
Oh no! Now just what would they do?
A ride in the semi, to Zenith they'd go.
At harvest time, you just go with the flow.
Grandpa would drive them away in a truck.
Before the storm came, if they had any luck!
They rolled into the co-op. The trip it was fine.
They came to a stop at the end of the line.
Other farmers had the same plan, it did seem.
Beating the storm was part of their scheme.
The girls waited patiently for their own turn.
Waiting with Grandpa, there was much they could learn.
He answered their questions; he considered each one.
One question? Two questions? No, they were not done!
Then it was time to pull onto the scale.
It was the next spot on the wheat's market trail.
A probe dipped into the semi truck bed.
Took a sample of wheat from that farmstead.
Some tests must be done, co-op workers have said.
They want to make sure it can be made into bread!
Into the elevator, it was a tight squeeze.
But Grandpa could do it. He did it with ease.
Now inside, it was time to dump wheat.
Once it was done, it was time to retreat.
Then the big semi was once again weighed.
A ticket would reveal if the wheat made the grade.
Yes, it was fine. Yes, it was great!
Once made into flour, it could appear on your plate!
Since rain sprinkles fell, we quit for the night.
We came to the house for some harvest bites.
The storm had made the girls late for their meal.
So they tore into supper with a great deal of zeal!
Because of the rain, harvest couldn't start soon.
Until the next day, it would be afternoon.
So Grandpa took two little girls to the pond.
Fishing with Grandpa can forge quite a bond.
Kinley had barely cast her line in
When a fish bit her worm, she started to grin.
For Brooke, it took longer. She had to wait.
But then she got one, and, boy, was that great!
The sun and the wind, they dried the wheat out.
"We're ready to help Grandpa!" They declared with a shout!
So off they went, down through the field.
Grandpa was hoping for a very good yield!
On the combine, there was a thing called a reel.
All of the wheat goes through the machine.
From the stalk and the chaff, the grain then is gleaned.
When the combine tank was all full of grain
We could tell it was, too, through a big window pane.
Grandpa then let us push on some knobs.
The wheat came out of the bin in a pretty big gob!
An auger delivered the grain to the truck.
Into each corner, the wheat soon was tucked.
When it was full, the truck driver did start
To drive to the co-op to do his own part.
It takes all kinds of workers to do all the tasks.
We all try to help Grandpa out when he asks!
Harvest is hard work, so hard that it seems.
A nap is in order. Hope for sweet dreams!
Then it was time for a good harvest meal.
We sat in the car. It was such a great deal.
Our time on the farm had to come to an end.
Until next year, more time we will spend!