Recollections From the Golden Cree Ii
Past unconcerned hens that distractedly
Scratch
Under frowning protestations from the
Sheltered Lee;
Into the cloaked shadows lain across the
Cobbled courtyard,
Behind which squats the twisted form of
The old brooding, arthritic apple tree.
Past the neat little cow-byre
Hosed and fastidiously scrubbed out twice
A day
With a fine tooth-comb;
The quaint and dipping, straw filled barn
Attaches itself determindedly
To the crooked gable
Of Barjargs contented farmyard home.
Those cubit-width walls of Igneous rock,
Once weathered and drab,
Now thoroughly soaked in glistening white
Washed foams.
Slated, cool pantry with smooth and
Polished marble slab;
Where, lying somewhat dejectedly,
To dispose:
Many a brace dispatched by the indifferent
Priest -
Glassy eyes staring out blankly
In death's stiffened and vacant repose;
The early mornings freshly collected
Brown eggs
Carefully arranged in woven baskets;
Pints of thick and creamy, unpasteurized
Milk
Poured into decorative, high-sided, orange
Coloured bowls.
Orange like the rusting sunbeam trapped
Inside each steaming droplet of summers
Oily dew;
Orange like the flattened landscape
Arising distantly...
Under the slowly emerging far eastern
View.
Blurred outlines upwardly forming
When slowly peeking through;
Gathered veils pulled back to reveal
Wantonly appealing, shimmering twirls
Of palest streaky blue.
The seldom trod tracks that I knew so
Well -
Remnants of an unremembered
Iron Age;
Ancient tramping peoples
That bravely traversed - to hopefully evade,
The terrible grasp of Merricks awful hand
That squeezed the Silver Flowe
Into tangled blankets of knitted bog and
Squelching peat;
Black slimes that downwards...downwards...
Downwards seep...
Smothering the cleansed bones of this long
Forgotten race;
Fragments of these shattered tribes
Now nourishing sweetest meadow flowers...
Where, sprawling thinly, they perpetually
Strive
To quietly propagate;
Sacred memories of blue painted faces
The swirling shrouds of chilling mists
Do avow to forever keep;
Comforting and protective roots gently
Wrapping around the sanctuary of their
Deeply immersed and sunken sleep.
Still onward's flowed the singing river
As between her watchful banks she
Gratefully swept;
And covered by the racing stars I
Wrapped about myself -
And in happy contentment soundly slept!
Onward flowed the jagged ripples
That fractured the obscured reflections
Within the streams -
As onwards sped the joyful passions
That bubbled over inside my eager dreams!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment