This is an entry for the Poetry contest by 
Walking to the door of my dreams,
My heart is pounding,
My breathing seemed to stop for a while.
Will it be there?
All those things that I have in mind.
The fresh air that I will breathe in once I open the door,
The green vegetables of all kind,
The variety of flowers on my garden bed,
The pond where fishes live.
Will it be there?
Once I open the door.
I am almost there and my hand is on the knob,
I pull it open and there it is,
The perfect view of my sunset home garden.
It is not as good as it is in the village.
The air is not as fresh as I hope it would be,
My little garden where my hero put his efforts in.
It is perfect the way it is.
It might not be as perfect for you
but it felt just nice for me.
My dear little garden in the middle of the big city.
I am not sure if this would fit into the theme for I do not own a farm. I cannot imagine how a farm could be. Pictures are taken around my house. It is all the hard work of my dear husband. He loves everything about nature and he always makes sure that we have nature around us wherever we live. That pond you can see surrounding our house is his hand made creation without any machinery. It Is not deep and we always afraid that it will dry up if it does not rain for days but then it still survive until now. I hope it will last. There are already some fishes inside the pond.
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