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SEEING THE VALLEY
I guess this is what being old means
struggling to top a hill
through woods bereft of summer's greens,
pitting pain against strong will.
But here I am shuffling along
just a few steps from the ridge top
listening to autumn's song.
At the peak I'll rest and stop,
Apex attained I stretch my back
then espy a big oak stump
and since legs' muscles have grown slack
on it I carefully park my rump.
The sun is well past half its way
with storm clouds building in the west,
a pre winter kind of day.
Cool wind makes me close my vest.
Far below a river flows
through a valley shaded almost dark
when the northern winds blow cold
and shadows stretch out sharp and stark.
But for today I'll not go there
walking its cool and grassy meadows
and with passed friends laugh and share
in that valley of the deepest shadows.
Style / type:
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage:
Content level:
Not Explicit Content
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Comments
tyro
Mon, 2019-06-03 14:44
Nice rhyme, but I notice you
Nice rhyme, but I notice you do seem to use meter. I followed your trek with interest as you kept me in the poem. The last stanza gave me insight into your title as it is heavy in connotation.
T
The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight
scribbler
Tue, 2019-06-04 17:27
Hi tyro
It was good to have you come along on this trek and leave such kind comment
author commentGracy
Fri, 2020-07-03 17:54
Hello, what a lovely poem.
Hello, what a lovely poem. Sorry about the pain, but it comes to all of us, sooner or later. Your title is perfect and I relate to the content. Reminds me of the valley I grew up in, with its shady trees, as well as fruit trees with their blossom and then the scent of rippenning fruit.
Your end rhymes are wonderful, wish I could manage meter as well as you do. As usual, my only nit is that you should tweak your lines a little, but maybe that messes the meter. Not sure. An example below, to TorT. All the best.
Today I'll not go there
walking its cool and grassy meadows,
with passed friends laugh and share
in my valley of deepest shadows.
*
*
*
"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury
scribbler
Fri, 2020-07-03 23:57
Hi Gracy
It was an edit which brought this poem back up on stream. I go through a lot of editing at times so you can be assured your input will be considered when I put the eye to this one again. A ME manage meter? lol. The just passed Judy is one of many to thank for what meter I Do manage to get right.
author commentSparrow 42
Sat, 2020-07-04 03:56
Stan
Great journey in slow motion this time lol
Know how you feel.
Did you know that the word Espy is an award for athletic achievement, how fitting that this word should crop up in a strange place other than its seeing ability lol
Take care I would send you a rocket assisted Zimmer frame, but you would only give it to someone else,
Yours Ian ..
Words can build a nation
scribbler
Sat, 2020-07-04 10:11
Hi Ian
Yes I guess we old guys relate to this better than some. It was after I wrote this that I discovered the espy awards . Thanks for dropping by
author comment