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WARMTH

It's cold, turn up the thermostat
then listen to the furnace blow.
It hasn't always been like that
and not so very long ago....

The wood pile needs to be replenished
on this January day
so right after breaking fast is finished
we're bundled up and on the way.

My brother and dad for company
we load the saw in the old truck
whose engine cranks reluctantly
as if in fear of getting stuck.

The sky is clear save one lone crow
as we journey to a new clear cut
where a hardwood forest used to grow
now just tree laps and skidders' rut.

We turn off of the two lane road
and jack frost crunches 'neath the tires
as it gives way beneath the load
crackling like lonely camp fires.

Over there's a big white oak tree's top
so we get out to make it shrink.
The smell of sap has yet to stop.
We cut and load quick as a blink.

A few more laps and we are done,
though air is cold our coats are shed
beneath a sun that's bright but wan.
We've filled up the old truck's bed.

Back down the road we sway and bounce
as springs and shock absorbers groan
proclaiming they'll not bear another ounce
while engine growls with a deep moan.

Then home, unload and split the wood
with one blow along each center crack.
Whack! echoes through the neighborhood
then wood is placed upon this winter's stack.

But one arm load is carried in
and placed within firewood's alcove
so it will be there if and when
warmth's needed from the old wood stove...

It's cold, turn up the thermostat
it hasn't always been like that.

Style / type: 
Structured: Eastern
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?
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Comments

Stan with vivid images. Do you still have those kind of stoves. I really love them.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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I haven't had a wood burning stove for over 20 years. But when my present home sells. I intend to have one in my next home which I'll build. Nothing quite like coming in from the cold and sitting beside a warm wood stove. Plus they are great as back-up heat and cooking when power outages occur. I appreciate your dropping by and hope the ending on This poem didn't disappoint lol..........stan

author comment

a kettle for vapourizing...
I worked for many who had wood
stoves...split wood
chain saw operator
mix the gas...throw the weight
of the beast down
and pull the handle with
a start..choke half on
a little gas..
sharpen with the rounded file
drag the drags with a flat
file...

hardwood and its textures
its warmth..steel and cast
the damper open
the lights flicker in a chair
while a moon climbs on
a winter cold night
and the trees snap..

Described it perfect!

Thank You!

I wonder how long it will be before the task of gathering fire wood will be such a thing of the past that the new generation won't be able to relate to the idea? I well recall the kettle atop the stove to keep the air from becoming too dry! I'm pleased you dropped by.......stan

author comment

This is a very nice nostalgic poem - one that many of our generation will be able to relate to! I love the cosy family feel of this poem, there is a metaphoric sigh and melancholy lilt between the line. Ahh the days of sitting in front of an open fire!

I always love your poems Stan! They speak of a life time's experience and permeate with your love of life and nature! :)

Love to you

Mand xxxxx

It may well be a good thing that I wrote but one poem then waited over 40 years before starting to write again. For what experiences would I have had to write of? I have noticed that a lot of family or communal chores, which at the time didn't seem that bad, are no longer being done. (Hauling hay, gathering fire wood, picking wild berries). What will today's young people recall with a smile in their later years? Always good to see you've come by for a visit............stan

author comment

It may well be a good thing that I wrote but one poem then waited over 40 years before starting to write again. For what experiences would I have had to write of? I have noticed that a lot of family or communal chores, which at the time didn't seem that bad, are no longer being done. (Hauling hay, gathering fire wood, picking wild berries). What will today's young people recall with a smile in their later years? Always good to see you've come by for a visit............stan

author comment

I can remember playing, with my brother in the hay fields ( making houses out of hay stacks ) and walking down to the river to catch stickle backs and shrimp - the farmers didn't seem to mind then. I look fondly back to those times with a smile - it was an adventure! Something video games can't replace.

Love Mand xxxxxx

the now-generation. Hopefully, there will be some that will continue to know and understand your work and keep the old skills alive. When I tell young people of the times I spent in the woods bordering my old neighborhood; they ask, "What did you do out there? When I tell them we just played, they are incredulous!
They say that it must have been pretty boring without video-games and cell-phones! I do see some that know how to work and play outdoors, but they are becoming few and far between. I had one girl ask me; "What did you do for lunch before McDonalds? LOL Happy Holidays! ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

I am hopeful that the disconnect between young people and nature will not become worse.I am pleased this brought back some memories of youth for you.....stan

author comment

.

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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The walk is rapidly becoming a mere shuffle lol. Thanks for dropping by.....stan

author comment

u seem to be recalling all your poetry
why not tackle the undiscovered ones
by
Ian u and me
Jess is not to be seen

I've been slowly editing my stuff in prep for an upcoming book of my own stuff. Between that, doctor visits, building son's house, preparing the anthology book (BTW have you sent sparrow the poems he requested yet?) and wasting time sleeping I've barely had time to write a poem now and then and occasionally leave a comment. Oh yeah, almost forgot I've also been helping older son move lol

author comment

compulsion to help our kids
what will they do without us?
when we r waving at them from heaven
and they seem to ignore
as gf is struggling in front of theem
as before

Ian did not appear too happy but he selected one How is this Stan kindly advise then I will remove it from here

WHAT A BEAUTY ALL CAN SEE...

Bestest parts of nature
are seen through the eyes
those who are pleasantly wise
so more often than not
I always see
through natures eyes

only blind as I may be
nature compensates my deficiency

I take snaps and show them to you
butterflies savour honey
like glue
and
then more are born
like me and you

happily we do
bestest regards to all
of you

I think it's fine. But the truth is that your name was randomly assigned to Ian. I have trusted him along with other cmt. members to handle initial contact and choice of poems from among the three submitted. I fully expect there to be some give and take in the choosing. If YOU think the 3 poems you submitted are among your best, that's good enough for me. But you should also be willing to listen to any feedback you get from Ian. After all, he has no "skin" in the choice but he also has read a LOT of poetry........stan

author comment
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