WAITING FOR DEATH
Daily I strolled, past this old man's house
And there he sat, from dawn to dusk
His mien, tenebrific uncompromisingly
Hunched in his chair, dried to the bone
Cold and crabby, waiting...just waiting
And so I dared ask one dreich, dreary day
"Good sir, what keeps you out here everyday?
"For I see, it takes a mighty bit of your time"
He spared me a frown, s disturbance I'd say
"I'm waiting for Death, that crafty crafty lout"
Confused I was, that one would pass time thus
I leaned on his fence, my curiosity compelled
For to me, this was one quite curious event
"Won't let that philistine sneak up on me" he said
"I'm smarter you see, won't be caught unawares"
"I made no investment, no profit I stacked"
"I lived my whole life at the barest I could"
"And stored not treasure, for that it would steal"
"And had me no pleasure, Ha! a surprise it'd be"
"Let death come for me, there is nothing to take"
I walked away, contemplating the perplexity
How a life would be wasted in such a wary way
For to await an event with no appointment
And to deprive oneself over such a quandary
Is in itself, i'd clearly say, a sad, very sad life.
Categories:
dreich, africa, death, life, literature,
Form: Quintain (Sicilian)
Sheaths of grass dry, dance in the arid field brown
In pursuit of green dreams, meander lives around
Counting its days, a wild plant wilts on ground
Obscured by sudden nimbus clouds, cries the sombre sky
Tear drops of the dreich sky wallop the vast land dry
Sky's tears, sustenance to the wild plant about to die
Starts cascading, the divine drops, one, two, three...
The drenched grateful land grins with glee
Descending drops,
Raise the pulse rates of the wilting crop
Sighs the wild plant as sign of hope
As raindrops swell,
the life-span propels;
August-21-2021
For the contest 'imagism' by Emile Pinet
Categories:
dreich, blessing, growth, rain,
Form: Imagism
Autumn’s but a memory as of late;
an early morning shiver fills the air;
the late summer blooms have all met their fate,
and birds have headed south to weather fair.
The country side is colored umber brown;
the shortened days ever dreary and bleak.
The winter cold driving my spirits down,
and my body for warm shelter does seek.
Snow is falling like feathers from the sky;
covering earth with a blanket of white.
Late afternoon giving up with a sigh,
and I am dreading this cold winter’s night.
Dreich times lead to my spirits abjection,
and leaves longing for life’s resurrection.
Categories:
dreich, death, depression, sad, winter,
Form: Sonnet
The wind is moaning,
mist forlorn and low.
The hills are softly sketched
in shades of monochrome.
The village blinks awake
from Sabbath slumber.
A bleating lamb is huddled
at the field's edge, uncomprehending,
it wonders at its birthright.
No silver light is falling from the sky
to ease this cloak of grey,
and yet, on such a bleak, dreich
Hebridean dawn,
A sound to cheer,
delight, surprise,
Just as the rain is falling, falling,
I hear a cuckoo - calling, calling.
Categories:
dreich, bird, weather,
Form: Free verse
The heather, the smell
Of the earth, dreich is all else
And still never was.
Categories:
dreich, conflict, freedom, history, political,
Form: Haiku