A poor man's kacha house,
a shelter simple and alone
amid the concrete houses
of the rich neighbours.
He dreams of a distant place,
the backcountry calls
with its equal embrace
where the status levels,
and pride give grace.
Categories:
backcountry, poverty,
Form: Rhyme
As kids growing up in the hills of West Virginia,
We were poor, but no one was any better off.
Halloween was a time we looked forward to,
But there was no money for the store-bought stuff.
Costumes and treats were always homemade
And so, we would scrounge around for things
Old clothes, cardboard boxes, and burlap sacks
From which we became scarecrows and clowns.
Late October weather was generally miserably cold,
Likely a mixture of rain and sleet or snow.
We walked miles for apples, a piece of candy,
Sometimes, a piece of fudge, or a popcorn ball.
Then, we trudged home, often soaking wet,
Examining loot the religious older folks called
“ill-gotten gain,” sharing the evening adventures.
We did not have to worry about being kidnapped,
Or molested, or having a razor blade in our treats.
We knew our neighbors well; they knew us, too,
So, for good reason, we dared not play nasty tricks
Because the new party line would be a-buzzing,
There were never any secrets in the backcountry!
[Dressing Up for Halloween]
Written September 7, 2022
Submitted to "Fall Flavors" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Categories:
backcountry, childhood, halloween, mountains, poverty,
Form: Free verse
Johnny was a lover of God's country
who roamed cherished land because he was free.
A skilled outdoorsman with backcountry charms,
he donned a burlap sack with holes for arms.
To wear rugged shoes was quite a blessing,
for barefoot he'd trek, soles without dressing.
He donned a useful pot upon his head,
books have depicted, historians said.
He was kind and gentle to all God's life,
though he was childless and had no wife.
He escaped wild beasts, slept under stars,
and had tales to tell along with scars.
As an optimist with fistfuls of seed,
he ceased moments to meet a future need.
Crisp and delicious, he loved apples' taste,
pocketing precious seed to sow in haste.
Imaging orchards graceful and wild,
he planted new life with faith of a child.
With settlers he'd barter for basic needs
blessing them with the product of his seeds.
From Pennsylvania to Iowa's ground,
Johnny's living legacy can be found.
1/20/2021
Categories:
backcountry, adventure, dream, earth, fruit,
Form: Rhyme
Does “childish” come to mind when discussing politics
Did you say no??? You must be living in the sticks
With no Internet or TV
Haven't heard of these geeks?
Sure boggles my mind, these backcountry hicks
Categories:
backcountry, hilarious,
Form: Limerick
Does “childish” come to mind when discussing politics
Did you say no??? You must be living in the sticks
Without the Internet or TV
Haven't heard about these geeks?
Totally boggle my mind, these lowlife backcountry hicks
Categories:
backcountry, political,
Form: Limerick
First Frost of the Season
By Reg Rhodes
September 1st; the first frost of the season.
The coolness in the air inspires my imagination.
What new adventures will the Rocky Mountain winter bring?
How much snow will fall before spring?
350 inches of snow, or more?
I'm so happy to once again live my life the way it was before!
My snowmachine still waits in summer hibernation.
The sight of it makes me giddy with anticipation.
Soon, I will be rushing down high mountain chutes, overwhelmed with exhilaration.
The smell of snowmobile exhaust Invokes reflections of fresh powder flowing over the top of my sleds hood.
Floating through the mountain powder makes me feel so incredibly good!
What snowy treasures hidden in the backcountry, will we find?
When we explore the endless acres of immense forest pine.
The trees will beckon to me; and I'll leave my worries behind.
It is in the deep snows and thick pines; where I find my solace and inner peace.
The sight of snow capped mountain tops provides me with a wonderful spiritual release!
The early fall frosts reward me with immense inspiration;
to once again embrace life, and the unique winter season!
Categories:
backcountry, autumn, nature, seasons, snow,
Form: Rhyme
I live in a state shaped by glaciers long ago
In the middle of the heat, we want it to snow
The breadwinner of many homes is what we grow
Here comes another winter, around forty below
Watch out for black ice roads wherever you go
Summer is six months away, yep, don't ya know
Melting snow makes for one big old muddy hole
Changing seasons so often, a backcountry expo
Minnesota fearing Green Bay Packers on a roll
Wilderness found up north, catch it on a pole
Mississippi flowing to its west into the soul
Universities preparing us, system educational
Wisconsinites moving forward on our loam soil
Architectonics with Frank, ingenuity and toil
Hydroelectrical powered first on the Fox flow
Conservationists residing, protecting fallows
Sesquicentennials of livestock, corn in silos
Characteristically unique, breadbasket tempos
Categories:
backcountry, dedication, history, native american,
Form: Rhyme