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Open Poetry #13
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The Lakeside Shed of Bocephous Jones
| Open Poetry #13 |
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The Lakeside Shed of Bocephous Jones |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
In the hour long of night And shy of day When neither moon nor sun Shine so bright Cold stretches out its ghostly tendrils To enfold a valley home There, slowly taking hold Strangling every sound to silence It seeks the lakeside shed of Bocephous Jones Sixty-some years Bo’s known the fog And in their time, father and grand Each knew the chill of this same hour. The morning’s silence echoes countless years Where no ripple roams the shore Stillness presides A mirror of mist And grave reflections Bo doesn’t like to swim. Mornings before the sun Bo brews his joe with a touch of grain Loads equal amount to his flint And takes his black comfort against the chill To stand rocking chair vigil on his porch with Dog. All is quiet in that hour. Slowly Memories seep in like mist Shadows to shade the soup And Bo thinks of wife Lorraine Who bore son Lonnie Both gone now Gone a’swimmin’ Lonnie to the lake two winters past Lorraine more seasons than Bo can count But Bo’s got nowhere to go And the fog gets thicker each passing year Bo’s not usually prone to the call But memories drip thick this morning Each a weight in the waters of regret Dragging him down Deeper and deeper Through the murky depths of despair Like a syrup steeped in sadness And self destruction If not for Dog he’d have drown A warning bark breaks the binds of memory And Bo swims back to shore Where he wakes with a jolt Wet with sweat Spilt coffee And something like lake water Bo knows how close he came Dog gives a Dog look Bo returns a Bo look With a scratch that says “Thanks!” And turns his gaze to the white haze Bo knows he almost went a’swimmin’ It’ll be a two-bone bowl for Dog this day Plucking O’Betsy from the porch Bo takes aim at nothing And everything Pulls back the hammer And triggers a new day With a flash pan spark of sound That shouts at the sun As it peeks over the mountain tops Black powder smoke and daylight Drive the ghosts From shed and valley Chasing them back through Passes and canyons To their elderich home Sealed away for another day But tomorrow brings another chance In this age old game And Bo looks tired and wet The lake never sleeps [This message has been edited by Andrew Scott (edited 04-05-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 Andrew Scott - All Rights Reserved | |||
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RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
Andrew.....This is interesting. Good use of sound(s). Among the many phrases I like..."...syrup steeped in sadness.." / "..trigger a new day..". Good rhythm throughout. Bob |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
Hey Bob...Thanks much for read through and posting a reply... it's a bit of a long one but I think it reads fast... not that you're suppose to... a nice medium pace should do. Thanks again. |
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Lady in Red Member
since 2000-02-16
Posts 147 |
My goodness Andrew! You wrote another piece that left me in total awe. Great imagery and what a tale... sad, but beautiful! You really should write "normal" poetry more often.  |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Scott--I really enjoyed this tale...it is told with an eye to dramatic detail and timing and a hint of magic. It was as though I could see what was happening ...without even realizing I was reading, a sign of great writing, I thinks. It's good to see you. |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
As I think I've told you before, I really enjoy your type of poetry. And you left it hanging, so we can look forward to a sequel some day. Joyce |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
Red, Martie & Joyce... Thank you all for taking a look and responding... When I think about it... the last time I posted in Open Forum was somewhere in #10... been a while I guess. Your words are the coin of the realm. Peace to you all. |
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coyote Senior Member
since 2001-03-17
Posts 1077 |
"But tomorrow brings another chance In this age old game" Aye, Andrew Scott. I sense there will be more to this saga as well. Ye never said who drowned the kid? Peace be unto ye. Billy  "I hate quotes, they suck!" |
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coyote Senior Member
since 2001-03-17
Posts 1077 |
"But tomorrow brings another chance In this age old game" Aye, Andrew Scott. I sense there will be more to this saga as well. Ye never said how drowned the kid? Peace be unto ye. Billy "I hate quotes, they suck!" |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
You always did have a unique flavor to your poetry, Sir Andrew....and you haven't lost it. Great to see you back |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
Well Coyote... you bring up an interesting question...Who drowned the kid?... and as for that... Who drowned Lorraine and who's after Bo? The answer is this: I'm a fan of H.P. Lovecraft. I wrote this from that perspective. I started to write this piece back around Hollween... about half way through I lost it... only to find it again about two weeks ago. I finished it up and posted here. Better late than never. Perhaps I should have given my usuall Dark-Side warning, but I didn't want to let the cat out early on. Anyway... thanks for finding, reading and replying. I bow to you and yours in turn. |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
My good man Sir Balladeer! How wonderful to find your tracks down this way. Much appreciated! Always good to be seen by one of PIP's best. With a bow to you and yours my friend. Peace! |
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Mike Member Elite
since 1999-06-19
Posts 2462 |
tis a fine poem you have penned, enjoyed muchly. |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
I enjoyed this very much... It's great to have you back posting again! *S* |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
AndrewScott~ I found this to be a very enjoyable read - layer by layer you've written a fascinating piece of reading material. 'Plucking O’Betsy from the porch Bo takes aim at nothing And everything Pulls back the hammer And triggers a new day' Wonderful ... just so enjoyable. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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