victorian canal life - the reality (a true tale from from my maternal heritage )
We left our abode
in old Cowfair
haggled a price
for an old shire mare
Onto the
landlord's canal boat
lock stock and barrel
for a life afloat
farewell to our
Buckingham birthplace &
its meagre living
from old point lace
dawdled slow
up to Cosgrove
taking our meals
. . around a blackened stove
our moveable house
painted castle& rose
not a life
we would have chose
Eighteen fifties harsh
&
mean
coal cargo
so nothing stays clean
doff your cap touch your forelock
every two mile
at
the gatekeeper's lock
Fresh food scarce
except for fish
perch & roach
a staple dish
clothes dry
on a washing line strung
out for a timeout
the toddlers young their
number so soon increased & grew
places to sleep
all too few
family life impossibly hard
so back to a tied cottage
in
Aylesbury's Anchorage yard
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
Categories:
forelock, family, history,
Form: Bio
We left our abode
in old Cowfair
haggled a price
for an old shire mare
Onto the
landlord's canal boat
lock stock and barrel
for a life afloat
farewell to our
Buckingham birthplace &
its meagre living
from old point lace
dawdled slow
up to Cosgrove
taking our meals
. . around a blackened stove
our moveable house
.painted castle& rose
not a life
we would have chose
Eighteen fifties harsh
&
mean
coal cargo
so nothing stays clean
doff your cap touch your forelock
every two mile
at
the gatekeeper's lock
Fresh food scarce
except for fish
perch & roach
a staple dishc
clothes dry
on a washing line strung
out for a timeout
the toddlers young their
number so soon increased & grew
places to sleep
all too few
family life impossibly hard
back we went to a tied cottage
in
Aylesbury's Anchorage yard
Categories:
forelock, boat, people,
Form: Rhyme
a tip of the hat
a polite nod
a hail caesar
a handshake
a slouch
a tugging of the forelock
a proposing of a toast
a salutation sandwich
a salaam
a bow
a cheek-to-cheek contact
a kiss on the bugle
a kowtow
a wave
a voicemail
a whatsapp
a geachte heer followed by a comma
a prayer
it's all very gracious and well mannered
but for god's sake get the swatter
Categories:
forelock, humor, humorous,
Form: Free verse
Villanelle: Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
Whether in deference to the past’s foiled efforts
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock
Rye clavicus purpurea our joints dislock
Till the soil of our conscience deeper than roots
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
Eastern sky pyrotechnics rude rockets won’t mock
In deference to witches’ brews sharp mandrake roots
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock
Infernal fires rage on in limbs of mad rock
Gargled warnings in the larvae spouting cheroots
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
Is that Bosch who will St Anthony’s fall not baulk
Memories of charred instant byres turned to soots
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock
Took thirteen point eight billion years to make a lark
How many to buy back twenty-one eight trillion debts
Everything takes time: take not time by the forelock
The tingling ergot fires our desires do unlock
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Categories:
forelock, allegory, america, anger, angst,
Form: Villanelle
Our moveable house painted castle and rose,not a life we would have chose.Eighteen fifties harsh and mean,coal cargo so nothing stays clean.Doff your cap,touch your forelock every two mile at the gatekeeper's lock.
Clothes dry on a washing line strung,home for a time whilst the toddlers were young.As their number increased and grew ,places to sleep all too few.Family life impossibly hard so back we went to a tied cottage in Anchorage yard.
Categories:
forelock, family, history,
Form: Narrative
Competition day had arrived,
His muzzle twitched with anticipation
And in relation my feet tingled in a way like never before.
For the first time, we both doubted ourselves
But fear not, we must carry on
As I plaited his forelock in preparation
I took the time to appreciate how flat his withers was
How typically racehorse he was
I stroked his fetlock as I knew this could be it.
His hooves were oiled and shiny as ever
Ready for anything
And the 3 link that he loved
Made no difference in poll pressure
As we bolt across the course, aiming to be the best
“I trust you, boy”
As if to tell him that even though, 2 years ago when he was deemed
A mess with dodgy hocks and lumpy coronets
Who was a waste
He could do this, to prove them wrong and beat the best
Become the best
Categories:
forelock, animal, confidence, horse, i
Form: I do not know?
HORSES
Knight of a famous land wanted a best horse for warfare
To buy, along with loyal consul, he landed in horse-fair
Many were on display, but one superior struck his sight
Bay coat, brown muzzle, coronet, fetlock in legs white
Measured from the withers , stood robust long and wide
Gaskin, Stifle, hock in hind legs strong for an enduring ride
Masculine back and powerhouse profound in the croup
This equine for sure would stand elegant in the troop
Perfect shock absorbing frog placed beneath the hoof
Poll on head positioned right to flex the bit sans any goof
Bouncy forelock ,mane and tail swayed with its gallop and gait
Finding place in Knight’s finest stable, its prestige did elevate
Love was in the air when its eyes located a lovely white mare
Mare was quick to catch the love cues from this special horse there!!
20th October 2016
For contest-Horses by Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
forelock, animal, horse, love,
Form: Rhyme
A horse that runs wild and free
Enjoys freedom with each stride
No saddle on his withers be
No grazing muzzle as a guide
No headpiece on his poll abides
His fetlock and his coronet feel the tickle of the grass
As his forelock ruffles in the breeze
No horseshoe on his hoof amass
With the wind he trots with ease
His gaskin flexes to run at his decree
His frog feels the soft earth as he stands
his coat feels the soothing rain
Unbridled by the bit's demand
His neighs echo through the plains
Upon these green fields, he reigns
His stifle and his hock aches once in awhile
But a good gallop 'neath the dome
of sky, brings him back in form and style
No crupper on his croup as he roams
For this horse calls freedom home.
~~~
10/4/16
*The crupper is the strap that runs from the horse's dock, over the croup, to the saddle.
Categories:
forelock, animal, horse,
Form: Quintain (English)
I named her Chestnut, color of her coat,
and love to hold her muzzle near my cheek,
then run my hand from poll through forelock tuft
down withers over croup...such grand physique.
But now concerned about her rear leg limp;
a problem with her stifle, gaskin, hock?
Or lower...coronet band on her hoof;
perhaps a stone in frog or sprained fetlock.
Inspection of back hoof showed small heel crack
most likely due to horseshoe mal-aligned.
With pat on back, I walk her to the barn
and waste no time...a farrier must find.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Horses
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 10/30/2016
Required words to use:
muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll,
croup, gaskin, frog, hoof, coronet.
Categories:
forelock, horse, hurt,
Form: Quatrain
Fine tussled forelock hides unbridled pain
from stifle-lameness acknowledged too late,
withering lesser those few that remain
watching as Stormcloud takes one final gait.
Soft drizzled rain-drops accompany booms
heard where each hoof tramples dirt into dust.
Mist escaped muzzle while ignorance looms,
glistens sheen gaskins long aching to bust.
Once thought sickle-hock due to fetlocks swelled
above coronets seen infected ill,
was quick dismissed by an owner compelled
to squeeze one dollar more from Stormcloud’s till;
Then came three races, one after the next,
which saw champion-spirit’s finest display;
Torturing sandscapes while weary croup flexed,
determined as anguished frogs made ovals pay.
He gave all he had and had no remorse,
For ended trots brought by one greedy soul –
Stormcloud indeed was a hall-of-fame horse,
erased when friendship went out at the poll.
10/2/2016
Categories:
forelock, horse,
Form: Quatrain
Julie
By our PM Julie
who is mesmerising truly
Kick starts Jumbo Jets untruly
Do I tug the old forelock
A boat person with agenda
Tried to bend me old bombs fender
Nice as a dollar lender
Till payments due to dock
Attack me did he Houli
Me not foolie foolie
Just kicked him in the goolies
What a blinking shock
With venom he spat
And launched another attack
So I sidestepped
hit him just below the ear
to the ground he went flop
sleeping well now he’d stopped
so I drove away
and had a bloody beer.
Don Johnson 20-may-11
Categories:
forelock, adventureold, me, old,
Form: Rhyme
Cheerful evening is drinking
August’s vine,
Warm wind has turned into a musician.
He dances above the rooftops.
He put on a cap with a dog-rose flower,
smoothed a curly forelock,
And started to play on an accordion.
The sounds float
from village to fields and forests.
here were meetings and partings,
at the blue rivers and in dense forests,
Joy and sadness of Russia –
in this lovely song,
Which flew away by bird above clouds.
But it will come back to us
in one of winter nights
sometime.
Categories:
forelock, song-
Form: Lyric
We left our abode in old Cowfair,haggled a price for an old shire mare.Onto the
landlord's canal boat,lock stock and barrel for a life afloat.Farewell to our
Buckingham birthplace and its meagre living from old point lace.Dawdled slow
up to Cosgrove taking our meals around a blackened stove.Our moveable house
painted castle and rose,not a life we would have chose.Eighteen fifties harsh
and mean,coal cargo so nothing stays clean.Doff your cap,torch your forelock
every two mile at the gatekeeper's lock.Fresh food scarce except or fish,perch
and roach a staple dish.Clothes dry on a washing line strung,home for a time
whilst the toddlers were young.As their number increased and grew ,places to
sleep all too few.Family life impossibly hard so back we went to a tied cottage in
Aylesbury's Anchorage yard.
Categories:
forelock, family, nostalgia, people, life,
Form: Prose Poetry