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HOME PLACE

I came upon a house today,
though most of it had gone away,
and left behind its mossy bones
of listing piers and cracked hearth stones.

So I took a pause for pondering
in midst of random woodland wandering
to think of those who once lived there
where none go now but deer and hare.

My gaze took in a lonesome hollow
and found that it was drawn to follow
up the course of a clear spring
that issued from a small stone ring.

I saw then that their source of drink
came not from some deep well's brink,
once a day they had to bring
full buckets from this pristine spring.

There stood an oak still giving shade
to this home's space as when a glade
surrounded it instead of woods
and quail would raise their tiny broods.

Did once children's laughter ring
as they swayed on a long rope swing
that hung from this tree's lower limb ?
I wondered what became of them.

Perhaps their father trudged at night
from working fields toward cheery light
where loving wife prepared a meal
to help assuage his hungry feel.

But evening came, I had to go
or my own love would worry, so
I set my feet to homeward take me
my joints and spirit being achy.

I had, then, no more time to wonder
about deserted home place yonder.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
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Comments

I do not remember this, for I believe that you became a member some time before I did.
I like this a lot. The first six stanzas are wonderful, tight and flowing, with good rhymes.
The last two stanzas, and the rhyming couplet at the end, seem hurried though, almost an afterthought, as if they had been added later.
But wow, for a first poem, this is very good. I would not dare to post my first poems here, now.

Respectfully, Jim

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Race_9togo

I came here this past May. This is the first site I ever used.This is NOT my 1st poem but merely the 1st one I ever posted. I had actually written 3 poems prior to this. The last two stanzas and especially the final couplet (although I didn't know that's what it was at the time lol ) were meant to convey an increasing sense of urgency at getting started toward MY home place. Now having bored you to tears, I thank you for dropping by and reading this rerun and leaving your honest thoughts.........scribbler

author comment

Well I'm glad it made enough of an impression to be remembered as that I think is the goal of most poet. Thanks for the read Shirley.....stan

author comment

I missed this gem! Old houses with hidden memories - so interesting. There are many old dwelling with a story to tell.

Loved being carried along in your journey.

Thanks Stan

Love Mand xxxxxxx

I'll be posting about 2 or 3 of my stuff from old site per week as well as new stuff unless I get in trouble for doing so lol.Poem was inspired by the many old chimneys and foundations I've come across in isolated places in the woods. Glad you liked this oldy but moldy.........scribbler

author comment

Ruins and places where there have been people before,
they have an atmosphere,
as if one can conjure up the vision of them again.....
the Bible lay upstairs
where all the floor boards were not still there,
the little notebook from school,
the moss ridden shoes,
the lacy curtains tattered by the wind,
the mouse nest in the corner,
the soot from the broken fire,
and the view out to the hills,
where one stands to listen
trying to sense the people
who inhabited this home.

That Bible was printed in the Germanic gothic,
still used by the main Oslo paper not so long ago,
still using the title Aftenposten in that script in the 70's.

I have a big plate
I collected from a ruined house
and think of those people every time I use it.
I have the sieve,
a simple frame with a metal sheet hammered onto the base
with holes bashed through with nails;
an egg beater made from a twig
which divides itself into five star-like right angles,
this when agitated,
much like that of a twig to start a fire,
the eggs become beaten;
these objects I found not far from my house
in Norway's mountains on the steep side of the hill
where living must have been harsh and difficult,
I saved them from rotting away.
What tales they could evoke,
if they could speak.

I so enjoyed your poem Stan,
as you can see I have a sympathy with places like that,
but then there are those derelict houses
where one feels a kind of fear,
without knowing why?

Love from Ann who hasn't yet fallen through a rotten floor!

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Some believe old houses take in the essence of previous occupants. I think it may have more to do with home's surroundings. Beware old floors and thanks for the nice visit..........scribbler PS I still have an old Hire's root beer mug I found in an old deserted house and had to reconstruct from pieces back when I was a kid ( or as some say back in the jurrasic era lol

author comment

It is as good today as it was yesterday. I miss your story poems and will be around more soon in time.

Love and Magics whisper:)

Hmmmm.... I guess I'll try to post an oldie later that isn't memorable lol. Thanks for taking time to visit Mona........stan

author comment

I can't get over how many recall this early write of mine. Thank you for wading through this again Chrys......stan

author comment

I didn't wade,
I tripped and tripped in rhymes that carried me like woodland streams again and yet again across the page through glades and places that I love to home.

Such charm, such grace, such commonplace made special with your words, dear Scribbler Stan you can you can make verses sing for us.

Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I hardly expected Any comment on this minor edit much less such kind one.......................stan

author comment

Welcome stan, your verses always blow in
the fresh air of the wilds and give us a trip, one we love to roam. ....Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I just edited this in a stanza which had bothered me since I first wrote this (4th). Didn't really expect more commentary especially from somebody who has already left comments. Thanks for the reread............stan

author comment

Don't have much time. Like the new 4th stanza, compared to the old it's a lot less choppy, less Yoda-like (heehee) if you see what I mean.
It's a big improvement.

Respectfully, Jim

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Race_9togo

This is the 2nd or 3rd poem I ever wrote and I still keep coming back to it lol. I'm pleased you think that stanza is better than it was.......stan

author comment

A poem from the past, it holds that woodsman quality and a history of times missed.
I have the feeling that this is not up to the standard that you would like.
There seems to be that thread of incomplete running through, the theme is a beaut, I will have a look at it more later, something is missing maybe the Spirit of the love the people that lived there in those days gone by.
I will take a good look later, Yours Ian

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

As I told Jim this is one of my earliest poems so I guess it would be strange if it was as polished as some of my later stuff.
Thanks for the visit and input........stan

author comment

I think you've cracked it! :) xxx

Only took about 7 years to get it right lol..........stan

author comment

Got there in the end. I admire your tenacity. xxxx :)

Mand

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W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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This is becoming top line and worthy of more reading, I will still have a look at the whole piece when time permits, in the piece something seems unbalanced and just reading in a hurry I can't see where so during this weekend I shall have a better look and come back to you, Yours as always, Ian

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

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