I stand beside the same old creek
where I played when I was young.
I remember days on this very spot
where scandalous songs were sung.
I’ve come here hoping for a gentle thought
to sooth my feverish brow.
How great, my desire to be here then
and not have to be here now.
Back at our old Victorian home,
in the parlor, it’s time for tea.
My wife sits there in her gown of lace
not thinking much of me.
Today, there in her casket,
my Mother lay at rest.
Her heart of gold, beats no more
but to it, I attest.
Time was ravishing her delicate frame
right up until the last.
The gas lights up and down the street
flickered as she passed.
The fog had cleared and the sun shone
by the time entombment came,
attended by ladies in corsets with parasols
and gentlemen in top hats with canes.
At last was done what there was to do
and I sought to be alone
with the pain of this vintage heartache
for a venerable lady gone.
Author notes
'wubbie get down you fatty'
I tried to include all options. That made the story a little skewed. I know. I detest (detest, I say) rhymes were one word in plural and the rhyming word isn’t (came/canes). Any constructive suggestions y’all give me will be thoroughly considered.
A contest entry
- Top Hats and Cold Gold by ResplendentCloud.
1100 points, ended December 21, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
It's all good.
Comments
-
I actually have some favorite lines in this one.
“I remember days on this very spot
where scandalous songs were sung.” I
hear “high class” little ‘gentlemen’ do that
in private. The rest of us do it in public.
“How great, my desire to be here then
and not have to be here now.” Well said!
“Her heart of gold, beats no more
but to it, I attest.” You’re saying you can testify
to her heart of gold. Right?
“The gas lights up and down the street
flickered as she passed.” I’m thinking
you’re telling us that her dying had an
effect on things.
To me the last verse is an excellent way to
bring it to a conclusion. I see and I understand.
I like that.
-
This piece was witty and had an ambiance of secrecy, just like the victorian era my contest was revolved around
I adore the fifth stanze and the poem flowed very well
as for corrections....I think that if you really hate the rhyme came and canes, I'm sure you could figure out how to change the poem eventually
goodjob and goodluck
-Emm
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