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Turkey in the Straw and Spring (February Contest)

Finally, Jack Frost loosened his grip
on my fruit trees to depart for the pole.
Bare twigs transform into overwhelming
blossom bows, and my unrestrained soul
spreads its wings to soar heavenward. I am
the hitherto bored boy who unshackles
wintery bonds to rush into the arms of Spring.

Warm breezes lure me to the nearby knoll
and I fly my homemade kite, but then
my eye espies a horned lark tumbling through
the air, emitting streams of tsee-ee sounds.

A cottontail mom raises her faintly mewing kits;
their small faces peer over the burrow’s edge,
looking at me--as if asking: Are you Spring?

Steady breeze. I tie my homemade kite
to a sapling and watch the long tail sway.
I sit on a tree stump and play
“Turkey in the Straw” on my harmonica.

Recalling that Spring of my youth,
I await its return.

Style / type: 
Free verse
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?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


stopped to read any poem with such a title! It brought me visions of little turkeys in beds of straw. Although I am not a big fan of eating turkey, I do admire their wonderful presence in the woods. They are very wily and not likely to be seen if you are not too observant. Imagine how I felt when there were no turkeys in the poem? Hmmmm, otherwise, a great representation of a fine Spring day remembered.
~ Geezer.

Come to chat every Thursday - 3:30 to 4:30 pm. EST.
With: c Lynn Brooks and Geezer

Well, Geezer. I can tell, you ain't no hillbilly--at least not from the parts of the country that I hail frum. In the 19th century, a feller by the name Bill Monroe wrote the tune that knocked the Clampet family's socks off. Hit it, Elly May an' Jethro!

Turkey in the Straw
Well, I had an old hen and she had a wooden leg,
Just the best old hen that ever laid and egg,
She laid more eggs than any hen on the farm,
But another little drink wouldn't do her any harm.

Turkey in the hay, in the hay, hay, hay!
Turkey in the straw, in the straw, straw, straw!
Pick 'em up, shake 'em up, any way at all,
And hit up a tune called 'Turkey in the Straw'.

author comment

I loved the feel of youthful adventure throughout your poem. You took me on a little journey, which ended with a tune I have never heard. But I could picture the boy with his harmonica. I liked how you brought all the nature into your piece and gave me a sense of innocence within springs ever blooming embrace. I was at one point wondering where the turkey would appear. Obviously that did happen in the form of a tune. You took the reader all the way to the title. Which I quite enjoyed. I don’t feel I can give any structural advice as I feel I am not equipped to do that. But this felt like a sweet story of spring

Thank you for your nice comment. I'm glad you construed the meaning of my poem as I had intended. Regards, Jerry

author comment
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