Farmers came from miles around To have their harvest yearly ground. The miller quite a dusty sight Always wore a suit of white. A foggy mill with roaring din Greeted those who went within. Yes, little wheel to me you bring A picture of a by-gone thing. The passing years have sped so fast I've laid aside the childhood past.
Older minds are prone to stray Down the path of by gone day.
A thrilling visit to a mill. All Rights Reserved Posted for your enjoyment by her granddaughter, Jane Sharp Holman of Sharp Sites.