In a Field

[serge]

In a field are the remains of a farm
which are all but what is gone.

For many long winters half-toppled stood
a fireplace which, for warmth, was good.

There also a silo is still in view,
It's bordering grass sometimes covered in dew
makes it sparkle in the cold Autumn dawn

but the two-story, humble, white farmhouse
is gone.

J. Leo.
aged c. 14

[serge]

Hi {P}. Hi ed,,, jLo here, luvs ya

[mfwilkie]

Welcome to ep, serge!

This goes back a long way for you, doesn't it?

I'm impressed with the effort at rhyming couplets.

If you were going to revise it, you might condsider an abcb
rhyme scheme and title change for a tighter image.


An Autumn View


Once, two-storied and humble,
the white farmhouse is gone—
time finds its footprint and its fireplace,
fresh dew on its lawn.

or forego the rhyme altogether in something like this:

Once two-storied and humble,
the white farmhouse is gone—
in its footprint, a fireplace,
fresh dew on the floor.

Maggie

[Marion Poirier]

Welcome Serge. A good draft; I have some suggestions
to tighten. I think it will improve the poem, but still
needs some polishing. I like the imagery - can picture
the scene clearly. It stirs the emotiions in a poignant
way of what was and is no more. This is always
a good theme for a poem - we can all relate in one
way or another. Marion P.

In a field are the remains of a farm
which are all but what is gone.

I don't think you need these lines as you are building
up to the climax - more powerful at the end.

For many long winters. half-toppled stood
a fireplace which, for provided comfort.
it was good. (telling)

There also A silo is still in view
It's bordering the grass.

Sometimes it sparkles covered with dew
makes it in the cold autumn (no cap) dawn.

but the two-story, humble, white farmhouse
is gone.

[serge]

Dear mfwilkie (& marion)

TY site mgr. for recognizing that "...Field" was written by me in the early 1960's somewhere... drop drills, "I like Ike", winters were very cold indeed in Lansing, Mich., zone 10. I remember our phone number because, well out of fear of being raped say but I never considered where the nearest phone might be, probably 1/2 mile away. {TUrner 2-5634 just to sate the masochistic brain-deads out there} I should call that number for fun, a good time as it weren't... or not.

You may have guessed that I will not alter a word of that ancient poem of mine. At my current age I seem to covet what I can recall of my adolescent years and "... Field" represents a glimpse of a nano of those times way back when. We were scared to the fallout shelter of any blatant mention of a microwave device. "It might sit in our home in Mom's kitchen?" that would be totally hinged on Mother's say-so,,, or not... and NOT is my guess.

When dear Ed Sullivan came on, black and white as he was, there developed times of tension, stress and fairly silent fits of disdain. When the elders, (Mom & Dad ), couldn't find another reasonbale, holy program on the "leaping Rembrandt" because tradition had been shattered by the times, and the Fab Four, un-kempt hair and all....
not to mention they were foreign and from but another country whose Yorkshire we had saved from the heat more than once; Yanked their pudding from the inferno... as you may. (please ignore that WE bullied them decisively, initially but apologetically in our very slow, lazy, diplomatic style. ) I suppose they may be yet more frosted that China has a sort of Favorite Nation trade status which the U.K. got thumbed on long ago... I think that it's basically a language barrier.

I'm glad that you and Marion Poirier enjoyed reading my "Field(s)". That makes a girl feel necessary I assume,,, wouldn't know fer sure. Wilkie, I just was able to stifle my idiotic laughter so that I can close now.

nice meeting you however introverted I may be;
J.Leo.

[mfwilkie]

The most extroverted poet is an introvert at heart, JLeo.