My Half Farm, in Wentzville, Missouri, was a part of the main fixture of the Bridlespur Hunt Club (IL) from 1957 to 2006, before urbanization forced the club to relocate further west. My Half Farm is still home to hunt horses, the My Half Farm Beagles, and is a regular fixture for the Three Creek Bassets.
The Old Coop she stands bended, a dip across her bow
Where time has weathered wood, barely even two-six now.
Many years have passed and she beckons as if to say,
Do you remember when the hunters came my way?
The Old Coop sits heavy, where imposing she once stood.
Many a hunter snapped his knees, back when times were good.
Up and over they did go, landing downhill, facing north.
Over I've flown many times on beasts now left this Earth.
The Old Coop she sits lonely, high atop the hill.
Reynard sheltered in her covert and breaking cross yonder field,
Took our hounds, and ‘gone away,’ the huntsman's horn did cry,
Then down the hill, across the creek, the field did gallop by.
The Old Coop sits overgrown, where our young love once stood.
He knelt down in front of it and promised that he would
Be faithful and be true, with me spend all his days.
Claimed me for his bride on that Boxing Day.
The sunshine is now fading, the farmhouse lights turn low,
And though she sits forgotten, from brambles she still peeks
This good old friend of mine, fond memories she speaks.
Posted September 11, 2019