The hand hewn cherry rocker smoothly rocks,
a summer breeze now all that makes it move.
It sways alone, a back porch memory;
a rhythm learned in simpler days gone by.
No visitors now come to this retreat,
the winding trail grown thick with berry vines.
A path for deer and creatures of these woods
reclaimed, this road no longer leading home.
A simple cabin crudely built by one
whose hand was promised her, in faith bestowed.
A gentle mountain love, two children grown;
once playmates chasing through these very woods.
No mansion grand comparing. Rugged frame
and white washed clapboard siding now worn gray.
The fireplace made of local stone stands cold,
it's hearth of oak awaits a mantle clock.
Beneath the eaves the swallows freely nest
and squirrels bed in rafters time revealed.
Where glass panes glistened spiders spin their web,
and summer bats have claimed the attic theirs.
The back door stands ajar, its hinges locked
with rust and age a passage now for all.
As each one comes and goes they pause to look,
~ a hand hewn cherry rocker slowly rocks.
Author notes
I have been told I seem to be in a reflective mood these days and I guess that is true. I have been working in blank verse as a sort of story telling devise. little vignettes as they were. I would appreciate a true opinion of if this worked. if by the end you had a picture in your mind. I have purposely posted this with minimal background as I wanted the words to do the showing.
Thanks.
Written March 15th, 2005
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1 - 17 of 17
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This gave the reader such an authentic realistic impression of a house that once served as an anchor place that housed some very real lives within its four walls. You wonder about the man who built it-what were his dreams... what was he thinking as he cut each piece of wood, laid each stone, etc. This was his gift to his bride and future family-how proud he must have felt. I wonder each time when he drove up to his home if those thoughts came to him "This is my home".
Now, it leaves the reader with melancholy thoughts-wishing that it still held that magic for a family that it once did for this one.
Taking us back to where it started with the rocking chair-that rocked with the breeze,but also from memory of past times-gave me the feeling like I took a tour through the house- seeing the first thing that caught my eye, as the last thing as I left.
What a grand house you brought back to life. I wonder if there is such a place that really does exist that triggered these writes? No doubt there must be.... -
All lines have 10 syllables; very interesting. A great picture you do paint with your words here Susan and truly I can see what you mean
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Susan, the thought behind this write is poignant and somewhat haunted by the lives that once made the cabin a home. The rocker really carries that feeling of life continuing as it slowly rocks. The description of the spider webs glistening where there were once window panes is exquisite. This is beautiful.
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I love this! It's so nostalgic and pulsating with love from some time ago. You words bring the place to life and I see the animals with your vivid imagery.
Alias catinahat
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Susan,
I read this three times over and each time the picture was the same--it just got more clear in my mind. What a beautiful poem this is! Sad, but beautiful. I agree with Margaret that I was happy that you came back to the cherry rocker at the end.
Excellent!!
Love,
Cheryl
cheers!
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So delicate and crisp -I loved it
Susan,
Yet another beautiful masterpiece. I felt as if I was walking in the forest area behind my house... a clear crisp fall day... the leaves from Maple trees scattered everywhere. No wind, but hearing nature calls everywhere. Seeing a deer crossing the creek. I start walking in the water 'the Kal walk' I call it and everyone at home does too... getting my favourite running shoes wet (7 years old now! lol). What an inspirational write, Susan... one of my favourites by you. I love your new writes lately as I love you sooo much. Take it easy.
With TONS of love,
~ Kalen
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Lovely
Hi Susan:
An excellent story prepared and told as the life of this cabin and its content moved through its days to then to what has become its place in life. I really enjoyed the tone you set in the beginning and the story that followed. Much like a newpaper article in verse, with the punch line in the beginning and the details to follow on how it got to that point. As always, your writes are appreciated, though I have not been able to read and express my appreciation lately. Thanks for sharing this lovely write. I hope this gives you some of what you were seeking in these comments. Bill -
Not only was the imagery alive, the tone was a melancholic sadness that such scenes often invoke. I have noticed the older I get, the more of these scenes I see. Maybe the same for you??? Great write, now fix the door, paint the old house, call your friends to bring some kids and take time rocking each one of them in that chair. Hehehe
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Yes, it worked. I really love the imagery in this, and just wanted to be there, alone, by myself through this poem. I know a poem is good when im smiling and feeling dreamy after. Excellent
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Dear Susan,
I think you need have no concern about the image that this poem conveys which should be clear to any American reader as it is to this kiwi one.
I'm sorry if I let you down on the punctuation but you didn't ask my help with that, only with the meter. I presume that Margaret stepped into the breach because it has plenty of commas now.
Applause, love and hugs, XXX Hugh. -
Hi Suze, This is a sensational effort indeed. You have captured the moment very beautifully and articulated the thoughts with care and precision. Good attention to metric cadence.
Hugs and squirrel kisses,
Jim -
Susan, I think you did a marvelous job painting a mind’s eye picture of the scenery and such in this. I really liked the way you used your imagery. Overall I give this a hearty two thumbs up.
~ John
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Beautiful poem Susan! I, sometimes, wish to be in a place like that, all alone and quiet. No matter how abandoned it may look.
Excellent read amiga mia
Kisses,
Mari
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AMAZING POEM
Wow Susan, this was full of breathtaking imagary. You wrote a fantastic poem here. The pictures you created with your words were wonderful. Thank you for sharing this amazing poem. God Bless and take care, Sandy
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Thanks Margaret -
those are the kinds of things I am looking for. I have the hardest time with punctuation I think. I am getting iambic to flow pretty consistently. Hugh helped tweek a few lines for meter, but I was on my own after that. If you could im me your suggestions I would be truly grateful.
Susan -
Great imagery
Overall there is wonderful imagery, and a great story of a derelict cabin, whose inhabitants' whereabouts or fate is left hanging. All gone, and the only witness is the cherry rocker; I love that you came around to that again at the end. It reminds me of the cabin that my grandparents built in the Depression, and lived in until times were better in town.
I noticed a couple of small errors like "who's" for "whose", and I hoped for commas in some places.
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Now that is the sort of comment a person likes to start their day with. Thank you so much! and thank you for all your kind words.
Susan
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