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Teakettle Wood

by the late H. Gordon Tayler

Inspiring book of poetry and prose about farm life (read samples below)

Illustrated by Eleanor Joy McDonald

Drawing once more from experiences on the same farm of his boyhood, Gordon Tayler has penned his second inspiring book of poetry and prose. As in Teakettle Wood, most incidents occurred on the farm known as Thistledock at Rural Route #7, Woodstock, Ontario.

Let older folks relive some of their experiences on the farm as they read yet another book of Gordon's inspiring poetry and prose.

Give grandchildren a glimpse into yesteryear. Inspiring tales of farm gates and cows, for instance, will help them understand a bit about what children used to do on the farm.

Having read Broken Bricks, you have come to love the poetry and prose that flows so gently from Gordon's pen.

Give a gift of inspiring poetry and prose! Your loved ones will treasure it!

All prices shown are in Canadian dollars


Teakettle Wood | Inspiring book of farm life in poetry and prose

Teakettle Wood $17

(Plus shipping and handling)
Purchase from Hazel Parker

(Sample poems below)



The stable was my place of toil,
Of tending flocks and feeding herds,
And still each spring its aging beams
Become a home for nesting birds.

Each year I watch for their return,
And set one windowpane aside.
The swallows, they are sure to come
Some morning or some eventide.

And it will be when April’s sun
Has chased away the winter’s chill;
When earth is growing warm once more,
And grass is green upon the hill.

Then suddenly ~ the flash of wings
Glide swiftly through the stable air,
And short, sweet notes the swallows speak
To let me know that they are there.

So swift and eagerly they fly,
And mould their nests upon the beams.
But swift the summer passes by.
Too soon the autumn comes, it seems.

The last wee chick has left the nest
And tried its wings, and tried again,
And now it soars like all the rest,
But the days of August start to wane.

And today, outside the stable door,
Each graceful wing a flashing gem,
They flew, and flew so close to me once more
As though inviting me to follow them.

I’ll miss them, but I cannot follow,
For I must tarry yet another day.
But when the God of my salvation beckons,
May I respond as quickly and as eagerly as they.

Click to enlarge
Click to enlarge

(Another sample poem)


I am thankful for a doorstep
At the dawning of the day


where I can sit and tie my shoe,
and think of all the things to do,
and listen to the sparrows chirp away.



For a doorstep is a goodly place
From which to view the dawn,


to breathe the freshness of the air
while day is waking everywhere ~
till all the night is gone.

I am thankful for a doorstep
When sunset colour glows,


when evening slows the hurried pace,
and these old boots I can unlace
and stretch my weary toes.



For a doorstep is a goodly place
From which to view the night


come softly in on every hand
to spread its blanket on the land
and set the stars alight.

Others in this genre:

Broken Bricks
Click for more info on Broken Bricks

Author Gordon Tayler
Author Gordon Taylor - Click for more info

Bread With Honey On It by Hazel Tayler

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