When the Wind Blows Over the Wheat Stubble

18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Friday, August 2, 1913:  I don’t remember exactly.

Photo Source: Farm Journal (July, 1913)
Photo Source: Farm Journal (July, 1913)

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

It almost sounds like Grandma didn’t write this entry until the following day since she can’t remember what she did on August 2. Since she didn’t write much a hundred years ago today–—I’m going to go back to her diary entry on the 1st.

It was a relatively long entry and included her monthly poem for August:

The month of August with skies serene

Smiles upon this world again.

Let us welcome her with open arms,

For sweet summer cannot always reign.

I also can sense that sweet summer will end too soon. The days are getting shorter. . . and the wind is blowing over the wheat stubble.

A question—Does anyone know the poem that has a line that says something like: When the wind blows over the wheat stubble, Fall can’t be far away.

My father used to always say a poem with those lines on late summer days when there was just a hint of fall in the air. I think that he memorized it when he was in elementary school—but I can’t find it when I search online.

9 thoughts on “When the Wind Blows Over the Wheat Stubble

  1. I thought that most poems had made it to the internet these days Sheryl, so I’m wondering if perhaps it was a saying that your father’s family may have had, or even a poem he wrote himself. If it is a poem, I do hope someone reads this and recognises the words for you.

    Our days here are growing slightly longer now….

  2. Sounds like a lovely poem. I did a search and found some lines similar but not what you are looking for – mention of it in a John Brown poem but I found this one – I know its not it –

    “or then the north wind will blow through the stubble
    and the cricket will chirp in the middle hall
    then all the field work will done and over
    and i will be once more merely a year older again”

    Came from: http://www.torusflex.com/poetry/chinese-translation/du-fu/murphys-du-fu-von-zach-xvi/

    My mother used to recite a poem and it was Irish and English. I asked native Gaelic speakers and no one knew what it was. One day by magic, I heard a priest recite it and I had him write it down. His father learned it in school and it was an exercise in Irish and from my mother’s time frame. So you wonder are some of these gems just “lost” throughout time unless someone passed them down orally. I hope you find the poem and post it.

  3. I also hope you find the poem. I wonder if it is located in old school books? I would agree that most poems are online now.

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