As a lazy August sunset creeps across a cirrus kissed sky,
peach and lilac crowns the hill that watches over our gathering clans.
Not clans in the old sense, more a collection of foundlings…
…bits of families, those who drop by, those who chose not to leave at all,
those who’ve come back to the fold, lured by the landscape’s
warm and lilting ways.
Laughs across the way, distant but comforting in the evening’s still
and sparkling air; a small procession of lanterns punctuating the lane
as the children bring their paper wares to set adrift to the heavens.
Pods of two, three, sometimes more slowly merge into an edgeless mass;
smiles, playfights and cajoling strengthen age-old, plain-old bonds
that refuse to be torn asunder by itinerant, modern, imposing lives.
Woodsmoke and hickory tinge the unmoving atmosphere with a
tantalus taste of later-on’s feasting, ever the centre of our town’s togetherness.
The clink of a beer bottle opening catches my ear, breaking through my
content and reverie to draw my eyes to red, vibrant and alive in the
calm hues of our evening.
The back of a shirt I recognise, unseen for a while but nonetheless familiar and stirring. The shoulders inside it rise through long grass and I see the figure stand; tall, lean,
ready, relaxed - the smiling mockery of reuniting brothers on every face.
On my smooth seat-stone I watch the unfolding scenes as the gathering
grows in number, noise, strength and joy over the hour until a guitar
gently begins and calm is all.
Old airs, words we all know and sing, with each other and those absent in mind.
The crooked and comfortable circle around the players settles into
the grass as the food is passed around and more bottles clink.
affection and a deep soothing ease suffuses me, looking around the field
with a light heart and a slow smile…here a dancing child,
there a clapping grandma, everywhere a love and a suspension of
mundane, material cares.
And again, red; the shirt is opposite me, and its wearer sees me too.
The lip of the beer bottle on yours, you’re paused in recognition of a face,
my face, you haven’t seen two summers since, at the old Johnston farmstead
across the river.
The night a picnic blanket, more beer, candles
and hot, slick skin were our company instead, calling long into
the empty night of another lazy August.
Author notes
oh oh oh OH but there's so much more to this, just need to do the thoughts in my head justice with the words...will revisit as I see fit, feedback MORE than welcome as it may help me shape it...
A contest entry
- All the cowgirls shakin' their sassafras ~ Holler Back ~ Down Home Poetry (open now to PWs) by Xianaria.
900 points, ended December 7, 2008, 17 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - round one; [&my weakness is that i care too much♥] by innocence jaded.xx.
1200 points, ended January 18, 48 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
floats your boat, or scuttles it? let me know....
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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I have never had the misfortune to visit Tennessee but I have heard the Tennessee Waltz and I threw up five times as a result thereof. My friend Barry Hodges wrote a poem about Tennessee which I helped him in (he's a bit thick) - read it!
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Thank you for entering ~
Beautiful images painted withing this write, very nicely done. I enjoyed the read.
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Thanks...
...for the trophy
x
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8.8/10
Amazinggg. I love how you fixed it up; and it definitely reads a lot more like a poem. This was wonderful. Welcome to the finalists
♥
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Thanks...
...glad it improved Will you send invites for the next round, or should we just keep an eye out? xx
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8/10
I liked the poem a lot, but I think you need to break it up more so it's easier to read and it reads more like a freeverse/prose poem.
-On my smooth seat-stone I watch the unfolding scenes as the gathering
Grows in number, noise, strength and joy over the hour until a guitar
Gently begins and calm is all.
...
I didn't quite understand that part completely; at the end of the first line, does it lead onto "grows in number...etc"? or does it end there?
-And again, red; the shirt is opposite me, and its wearer sees me too.
The lip of the beer bottle on yours, you’re paused in recognition of a face,
my face, you haven’t seen two summers since, at the old Johnston farmstead
across the river; when a picnic blanket, more beer, candles
and hot, slick skin were our company, calling long into
the empty night of another lazy August.
...
Maybe try to break that one run on sentence into smaller sentences; idk it might ruin the point you're trying to get at, but it seemed like one big run on sentence.
I like your imagery a lot, though, and how you made the reader feel like they were there. You put a lot of thought into this, I can tell. If you want to receive a higher score, you can do some editing, or just enter another one. Thank you for entering I really liked this♥
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OK...
...have revised a bit...to answer your question, it does follow..."the gathering grows in number, noise, strength and joy..".
Hope this has improved it. I think it has. x -
Thank you!!
It's so nice to get comments that actually help Don't get me wrong, praise and backslapping has its good points, but this is great.
Will have a revising session when I get a minute x
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I love it! the atmosphere is great, the surroundings calm and peaceful. You included everything that appealed to the senses, the music, the crowd..including the grandmas and the children. To glimpse a face in the crowd of a sweetheart from the past, was so special. Tennessee is dear to my heart, so the title caught my eye.
I have family members in Lebanon too.
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Wow....
...being in the UK and just writing from my own perceptions of what the place might be like, a lovely comment from a native is a real compliment Many, many thanks x Also...ties in with another piece, "A letter".
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line 5 I think should be Those that left here
"That refuse to be torn asunder by itinerant, modern, imposing lives."what a beautiful so true line
I do so love this peace And the fact that I gave you suggestions which is totally unlike me shows how much I like this.. It is just wonderful ever thought of writing a book .. Because I would read it in fact I would earlier order it on Amazon just simply stunning !
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as for the line...
...by "those left here" I meant those STILL here...reading back it's not clear - thanks for the heads up! -
Compliment indeed...thanks hun, as I said
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