Saturday, October 29, 2011

The Change


The drifting down of red and gold
Before the coming of the cold;
The old barn set amongst the corn,
In days before we all were born;
The rustic, rural charming scene
Reminding us of what has been.......
All these in some bucolic haze,
Reminding us of 'better' days,
When life was true and safe and gentle
And human life was elemental.
We can view this scene and sigh
Because such life has gone on by.
But I prefer to take the view
That there is much hope in the new.
The jagged spears of windmill sails
With all that 'renewable' entails,
To me are signs of great endeavour,
Proving that mankind is clever.
Look back! Our skies are brighter, clearer
Than they were in that much earlier era
When there were factories over the hill
Spewing filth to make men ill.
There's every chance that we will cope.
This windmill is a sign of hope.


It was just before the old man died......
'Open the window! Open it wide!'
His breath was shallow, his voice was weak,
But everybody heard him speak.
A look of joy suffused his face
As he gazed, intent, at the open space.
He lay there, smiling a gentle smile
As his family waited for a while.
'Oh look! There I am! The sun is so bright!
Look at me! I'm flying my kite!
And, goodness gracious, there are the trees
From which I'd fall to scrape my knees!
Oh no! They're the trees where I once strolled
With Mary. have and hold.
And look! Look up! There's Joe!
I used to hold him up just so!
I'd toss him up towards the sky
And all he could say was 'Dada! I fly!'
That sky! It has the blue of Spain!
We travelled by car, by boat, by train!
Those trees are in our garden too!
I planted them when they were new!
They're like the ones under which our Joe
Married Elise! So long ago!
Then along came Archie! His big blue eyes
Were just the colour of those bright skies!
A grandson to love, to tend, to teach!
Blue, blue days on the golden beach!
And look!............. ' They heard his voice just cease.
Over his face spread a look of peace.
But one final phrase they heard him say....
'It's been a lovely holiday'.


Mary Ann Potter said...

Both of these are wonderful, but it's the second poem that made me cry. My father was raised on a farm, and he once taught my son, his only grandson, how to fly a kite by tying it to a fence and watching the wind catch it. Don't misunderstand --- I enjoyed the tears of remembrance. My father passed away in 1992. Now that I have a grandson (Joshua is one month old today), I see more of what that kite flying meant. Beautiful, beautiful writing. I'm glad you wrote this poem.

Kay L. Davies said...

I agree with you about renewable energy sources, Brenda. I get on my soapbox every now and then about it, but no one listens.
Like Mary Ann, I love the second poem. It's been almost two years since my dad died, and I know he was long past thinking anything because of the dementia, but I love the fact that the dementia prevented him from knowing Mom died two years before he did.

Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh such wonderfully rich, nostalgic writing. I loved them that the "windmill is a sign of hope." WOW! Did I ever need to hear that! And love the old man's reverie as he was dying....just beautiful.

Susie Clevenger said...

Both are such nice pieces...nostalgia and future mixed...I especially like your first you included renewable energy...

Kerry O'Connor said...

Your response to the pic prompt provides one with something to think about. Your change in tone and direction was really well done. Yay for cleaner skies!

Mystic_Mom said...

What a great pair of poems, I love them both for very different reasons and together they show a long and an intimate view. Nicely done!

Anonymous said...

the windmill is a sign of hope and also of tehcnology