He came each June, his hand upon the head
Of one of his great-grandsons or great-nephews,
The hoard of baskets swinging on them both.
He was a time mark; his rough poetry
Sang summer in…He knew us all by name,
By names he found for us, that is; he’d urge us:
“You try this shopper! Very good, they be,
Mrs Don’t-slam-the-gate do swear by ’ers!”
Or “Mrs Poodle says these small ’uns ’ere
Be good for nuts at ’er smart cock-tail parties!”
Or “Mrs Lavender took one of these
Work-boxes – she says all ’er friends admire it!
Mrs Floor-Polish took ten flower-pot ’olders
For ’er cac-tusses; Mrs Bungalow
Do want this tea-tray – that be promised, like!
And this cat-cradle – that be special ordered
By Miss Ophelia…”
One day, being curious
Who in this dull suburban street could be
“Ophelia”, while Blindie drank his tea
(They say he called me “Mrs ’Ave-a-cuppa”!)
I whispered to the current great-grand-helper:
“Who’s Miss Ophelia?”
“She be that old lady
With all the cats; she always do give Grand-pa
One of ’er roses for ’is button’ole –
They smell real pretty! She says they be called
'Ophelias’…”
“Miss Finch, you mean?”
“Maybe,
But Grand-pa always calls ’er ‘Miss Ophelia’!”
The children, who hear everything, have told me
Blindie is dead. His trade-routes found no heir.
The blind now ply their crafts in sheltered workshops
That sell their baskets to the wholesale dealers.
The new Boutique in town stocks some, at thrice
What we paid Blindie…
Yesterday, I saw
Miss Finch outside the window, tired eyes scanning
The 'shoppers', work-boxes and table-mats.
Sudden, she shook herself, and proudly walked
Away, back straight, grey head erect, her shoulders
Squared firm to life, her crèpey chin held high –
A woman one man called “Ophelia”!
A contest entry
- # 40 Contest for Winklings and like-minded friends: "Blank Verse". by Lyndon.
11920 points, ended February 11, 2008, 11 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - IT'S ALIVE ................ (PREWRITES ALLOWED) by Alex Hex.
300 points, ended May 19, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Round Contest! Round 1 of 4. Everyone welcome. by FightOffYourDemons.
350 points, ended June 11, 2008, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Character Contest by art.e.miz.
350 points, ended September 8, 2008, 5 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Character growing (PW Allowed by SoulfulBubbles.
300 points, ended October 16, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Stories in Verse by Samyuktha P.C..
1000 points, ended September 13, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - prewrites contest!!!!!!!!!!!! enter!!!!! by foreveryourslove.
1120 points, ended November 9, 1066 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Please do not feel obliged to comment - and if you do, please understand that it may be some time before I can acknowledge it.
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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Recitals Beg for this
I can envision a good recital directed with this poem, but I am still not able to encircle a performance here. I made sure I'd read through Lyndon's comment, for I bank on those. I agree with him that this is a marvelous poem, for sure. I am going to keep a tab on this and get back to you.
Best of luck,
Sam. -
excellent narrative! its wonderfully written
-IAR
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Beautiful story. Thanks for entering!
Mylee and Alex -
Congratulations on the bronze. The piece demonstrates once again how extraordinarily fluid blank verse is, and why English poetry underwent such a radical and rapid shift with its development. Marlowe, Shakespeare, Milton--it was a perfect tool for each, and each wielded it in entirely different ways.
This poem reminds us that "antique" forms can--and should--continue to be adapted to contemporary ways of thinking, of speaking, of writing. And that when we do it masterfully, wonderful poetry results.
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This is a great example of why I love
story poems. This was wonderful. It
was full of imagery and it caught my
attention and carried it through to the
end. I really loved this.
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Well, now ...
Casting a critiquer's eye, anonymously, over this poem, one cannot envisage anyone seen at AP having written this.
However, acting in good faith, I feel this piece of blank verse is that of a professional poet, alive or dead. Assuming the poem is not from Oldpoetry or from laureates or well-established poets of the day, I can say this is an example of what can be done, excellently, with blank verse in our own age or at least the C20.
The diction is a little Shavian. That is no crime at all. Whatever street in London the dialect comes from, it is not Lisson Grove!!!@! [I hope!]
The conversational poem with persona reflections, is humorous yet poignant. The name "Ophelia" insinuates that likely outcome.
For those who are prosaic, look at the wonderful imagistic introduction of the basket-seller, the blind one.
The game is NOT syllable counting. I said basically iambic with metrical variation. This is as good as Shakespeare gets in his mature plays, for the doubtful ones.
Ophelia was once beautiful, one feels, well at least, as years passed, to Blindie. Note how she gave him roses for their scent.
Still, having walked into an oblivion of sorts following Blindie's death, Ophelia, an old, old lady has her dignity and we, the readers, must quietly accept that because it's sacrilege to destroy it.
Oh, I could go on and on, but this is a marvellous poem. Whoever owns it, I salute you, friend.
or 
Rarely do I add a note from a poet but this process intrigued me and every point is true of the poem:
"One thing that has always interested me me is how to portray blindness in a poem - i.e. how to avoid using visual images... This is not the only time that I have attempted this..."
In this poem, Blindie identifies the women by smell (roses, floor-polish, lavender (either the perfume she always uses or from a sprig from the plant growing in her garden - lavender does not bloom in June here, but one can always get the scent by picking and crushing the leaves), words ("Don't slam the gate!" "'ave a cuppa"), and touch - the poodle's curly hair is quite distinctive - I imagine him jumping up to greet Blindie - they are very friendly and inquisitive dogs, at least the ones I have known are!), and a bungalow would be - for Blindie -distinguished from the two-storey houses in the street by casting a smaller shadow, and hence more of the front drive would be warmed by the June sun as he approached.
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I loved the conversational formatting in this piece. It offered the theme so much life.
Where are all those hand made goodies these days?
You have handled your syllable count quite well in each line and though I am not an expert by any means, it seems you have stuck pretty close to the meter. I did feel it was more prose formatted to fit a blank verse format though, and think this may be a more effective read as prose.
But that is simply my opinion. I will defer to Lyndon on this one because I simply am not sure. I enjoyed reading this beautiful piece very much and as far as pleasure in reading goes you have hit ALL of my on buttons.
Thank you. ~Pamela
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Dear Pamela
I respect your point of view. Between us we shall sort out our assessment upon this poem.
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Ron
Thank you. I have much to learn about prosaic form and blank verse then. I love Milton but it makes me dizzy and Shakespeare though classic beauty, makes me squint.
You are right about this being more modern, but still, I struggle with this.
I will read more, study more, and come back to these pieces. This helps some but I need to expand my horizons a bit. Bear with me dear poet and you too Ron.
Learning is the best part of these contests!!
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Dear Pamela
Learn on the job! And, stick to your guns. I trust you implicitly. Ron
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A most enjoyable
... blank verse read for me as I usually am not keen on them. Your dialect and the story is delight-full and definitely kept me reading on ... I wish you a Gold for this entry in Winklings #40 as you have demonstrated your talent well. A future student joy
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I really enjoyed reading this, so much so that my critical faculties went out the window. A fascinating and charming poem and I love the dialect--is it West Country?
Bill
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I think
Dorset or 'Wessex' somewhere.
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Hi Vera
I like this as well as Bessie for dialect writing.
I was trying to think of something smart a__ to say
but will save it for another time.
Johnny Johnson
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Great story
I have to admit that I lost track of syllables in your story of baskets and buyers. How times have changed; we don't know anymore the person who made the "handmade" whatevers. Blindie is a clearly defined character, I like "He knew us all by name", you showed that he knew everything but! Look in the third last line for a typo.
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Thank you - I have fixed the typo...
In haste...
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