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Open Poetry #32
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On Discovering An Old Homestead
| Open Poetry #32 |
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On Discovering An Old Homestead |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
...The lilac at the privy site Is skirted with the heirs of daffodils, And where the well spring was, The pearls of red still shine on sides Of brook-trout riling sand (their) Orange fins the same as when, The couples children Fished for grand-folks Of these kin...... ******* Now, but collections of stones, Ruins stacked, are all that's left, Squares and wrecked-angles Of tilted foundations That only hold up, moss and air The bases, Of human vision faded to oblivious, Barn and home and people, gone.... Now all are ghosts, And only sprits work the fields, Beneath a canopy of trees. * Such high notes, his broadax sung A wife, with both hands Handling the harpoon spud; Tree skin curling as she pared Outer bark from inside, out Of chopped-to-level, logs... Taking care to extra smooth The beams that faced the kitchen side, Where she would hang her cups. * The image of them building walls... I write in stanzas, and of failing Plans that voice up from the dust While I am standing... here, I write The lines gave free by mystics Lifting lines from cellar holes To meet my mind... * I sing this ode to house and barn, For moments bring to life The long dead Though I didn't know them, Hope their happy with this poem. |
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| © Copyright 2004 ford hume - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Very nicely penned Ford... wonderful imagery! Hugs~ To have lived the dream of a love so true... |
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Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
Several years ago the word riling filled one of my poems as well... so I did not have to look this one up. A wonderful poem, m'friend... |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
I"m sure they are |
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froggy Senior Member
since 2003-06-23
Posts 1893Michigan |
Hey Ford, A wonderful poem. I enjoyed this one. :-) |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Such high notes, his broadax sung A wife, with both hands Handling the harpoon spud; Tree skin curling as she pared Outer bark from inside, out Of chopped-to-level, logs... Taking care to extra smooth The beams that faced the kitchen side, Where she would hang her cups. awesome! |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
ice This is nice. A good write enjoyed the read. |
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