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Open Poetry #25
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The Journey, Part IV
| Open Poetry #25 |
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The Journey, Part IV |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart 
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Ginger’s Challenge 20. If I Could Write A Column “and she thought “this, is how he will always feel,” and he thought, “this, is what I will be giving up,” as full throats of unspoken words hung in burning trust of silence,” Gold comes morning of a South Dakota beginning, bullion colored wheat fields, yellow sunrise, golden rays to beckon eyelids to open and smell…bacon… pancakes, eggs, hash-browns, fresh baked bread, jams and jellies that only old recipes can emulate, no Smuckers here, familiar footfalls of family she had held on to, of when they once cared for them in L.A., when mother was not well, and families extended in ways now, almost, lost… but they had returned to the wheat, to the gift of land, staid call of earth, the feel of life’s hold…letting them stand with their heads in shine like the wheat… with her aunt’s Emma cluckings to chicks she had never developed but had taken under her wing, the uncle’s chucklings of a woman in happy, for of all nine uncles, this was the favored of the children, who didn’t play favorites, but winked like he did… and the aunt never let on her thrill of the chicks… then…it was time… the younger children were taken elsewhere, as the carpenter took the woman/child to him in beared hug, and she knew an adventure awaited – for he never said when there was a surprise to be mounted, but just said, “we’ll be back later,” and snugged her to him so much so she was a child again, with giggled laughter to buoy him, just so…. …over plains they drove, through country long and wide, flat and ever-there, and not there in shimmering wave of heat on rise, she even looked, once or twice, for an Indian just there, on the rise, but no, just a scarecrow, and crows, not scared, sitting on weathered shoulders, black feathers in gleam of blue shine, waiting for the corn to rise… and then, a turn, a wave, a cousin in hold of a horse, for her, to mount, to ride, her father giving her the one gift of a run to find her heartbeat that he always knew she had wanted, could never afford for her, until now, and he said, as he booted her into the saddle, “just let him know he can take you with the wind, and you’ll be fine,” and that love held trust, just as the plains held wide, as the sun beat warm, as her heart beat full of tears on the slide… this was his last father/daughter gift… the one they would always hold in gold… and he watched as his dream for his Sagittarian child became one with the animal, as the silver of her mercurial slipped away in the ride of life, astride the earth, a sketch of time beneath my hand which may unfold in Ginger’s column. ~*~ Larry Chadwick’s Challenge: /pip/Forum7/HTML/000552.html The hat is still waiting for you to reach in. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (04-11-2003 10:21 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
HAH! saved this before reading.  Be back in a few minutes. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Kari - God this is beautiful - I adore horses and that feeling of flight - and the innocence father/daughter - you have yourself a short story here missy - excellent write . . . xxoo |
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
These have been great. Hoping for more |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
Sunshine, i swear i didn't peek into the next instalment before i selected the lines that strike me the most...funny how i zeroed in on the lines that would appear as the introduction in latter instalments with her aunt’s Emma cluckings to chicks she had never developed but had taken under her wing, the uncle’s chucklings of a woman in happy, for of all nine uncles, this was the favored of the children, who didn’t play favorites, but winked like he did… and the aunt never let on her thrill of the chicks… ~this was a delight to read...muchly enjoyed the word play you reminded me of the first and only time i had ridden on a horse...how sweet that memory was! |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Another beauty! These are wonderful Sunshine  adding this to my library and moving on to #5 Maree  |
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Kethry Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082Victoria Australia |
The story still calls me and enthralls me. Kethry Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind. Unknown |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Karilea, ================================= her father giving her the one gift of a run to find her heartbeat that he always knew she had wanted, ================================= I think I know now what could have been and have no regrets. Bless you.  If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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vandana
since 1999-10-22
Posts 10463USA |
enjoyed |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Gold comes morning of a South Dakota beginning, bullion colored wheat fields, yellow sunrise, golden rays to beckon eyelids to open and smell…bacon… pancakes, eggs, hash-browns, fresh baked bread, jams and jellies that only old recipes can emulate, no Smuckers here, familiar footfalls of family she had held on to, of when they once cared for them in L.A., when mother was not well, and families extended in ways now, almost, lost… but they had returned to the wheat, to the gift of land, staid call of earth, the feel of life’s hold…letting them stand with their heads in shine like the wheat… ==================================== and then, a turn, a wave, a cousin in hold of a horse, for her, to mount, to ride, her father giving her the one gift of a run to find her heartbeat that he always knew she had wanted, could never afford for her, until now, and he said, as he booted her into the saddle, “just let him know he can take you with the wind, and you’ll be fine,” and that love held trust, just as the plains held wide, as the sun beat warm, as her heart beat full of tears on the slide… this was his last father/daughter gift… the one they would always hold in gold… and he watched as his dream for his Sagittarian child became one with the animal, as the silver of her mercurial slipped away in the ride of life, astride the earth, a sketch of time beneath my hand which may unfold ============================= your sketching time and etching memories in your verse...and the journey becomes a diary of life... |
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