Across the vast wide prairie
where tall grain meets the sun,
wagon trains carried settlers
on journeys first begun

The wind was called Mariah
as it sang its old sweet song,
buffalo grazed, prairie dogs played,
sod houses there belonged

Sunburned faces worked the land
to make large plats their own,
with horse teams for the plowing,
they cared no more to roam

No fence lines then were present,
all lands were open, free,
and men could choose their labor
out on the lone prairie

The songs sang of their coming,
and sometimes why they’d go,
even at their gravesites,
hymns sung sweet and low

Cowboys herded cattle,
farmers sowed the wheat,
all men worked together
insuring food to eat

Prairie fires were to be feared
as the wind whipped up a blaze,
settlers scurried here and there
to douse it tho’ half crazed

Children grew up hardy
and passed the time in play
until they fit a saddle,
their chores began that day

For the song of prairie life
was passed down thru’ the ages,
each one pulled their weight in work,
as seasons changed in stages

Songs of hardships still are sung
tho’ times have changed today,
farmers barely can survive
with government in the way

The cattlemen raised fences
God never meant to see,
cutting off green pastures
out on the vast prairie

But the song will thus continue
in generations to come,
the wind will carry songs of old
as distant combines hum

For it’s the will of the people
to sing their song so free,
listen close and you shall hear
THE SONG OF LIBERTY…
 

Poetry By - © Tamara Hillman
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