Abandoned at high tide’s furthest edge –
load of kelp, rake and barrow stand
silent in anticipation.
The sun reflects opaline
to match the fire in her eyes,
as does the pulsing inner ocean
the waves without.
And she -
standing there
with her breaking waters
upon the rocks,
the spindrift carpet at her feet,
while wind streams her hair
pennant taut –
briefly cries out her grief
obdurate
with encircling arms,
as hidden life increasing stirs.
She turns her back upon the tide,
ignores the barrow,
retraces steps to crofter’s door
and enters in as the pains begin,
contractual.
Author notes
Re-titled
CROFTER: a term used in the Highlands and islands of Scotland, to designate a tenant who rents and cultivates a small holding of land and raised sheep. Crofters were poor, and had no legal rights. Following decades of exploitation and oppression by their landlords, the crofters of the seven crofting counties began a resistence movement in the 1880's. The landlords began clearing the sheep farmers out, and turning their properties into Deer Parks and agro-forrestry. Crofter victories in court brought few improvements, and when the landlords evicted the crofters and burned their housing, the system ended in the migration of many crofters to America and Australia. The landless Scots didn't get voting rights until the late 1880s.
Kelp is dried and used as an additive to stock feed.
A contest entry
- Best Prewrites From January 2009 by amaranthine lover.
1125 points, ended March 4, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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Awesome Write
Your title intrigued me, but the poem is one so familiar to the sea faring ancestors in my own past, from Scotland..A hardy fisherman's wife rearing large family alone, while husband out fishing..This dear woman was not a rare case needing shelter, worrying about her spouse, and would he return. Crofters cabins are an attraction now for tourists, but as you say at one time the crofter's held an uneviable position on their landlord's property.
The whole write with the author's notes gives the readers an appreciation of the Scottish history...Well done!
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Rose:
Barrow and widow have double meanings.
Barrow: wheel barrow, and burial mound.
Widow: survivor of a dead spouse; and 'abandoned' by a husband gone off to do something else, as in a 'golf-widow' - here it could suggest either a fisherman's absence or social abandonment. Take your pick.
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Sounds as if this woman, heavy with child waits for word on the wind of a loved one, a husband, perhaps one who may never return, reminds me a bit of the song Fields of Athenry..'you must raise a child with dignity' Seems so many of this type of thing happened, woman are stoic in them those times to just keep going no matter what. C
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wonderful piece!
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very nice i love it the way it flows is just so nice great job keep it up love the title.....
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And here is the synthesis of concrete and musical beautifully done. The story is old, the treatment and images are not. Well done! Buff
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oops
oops got so carried awy by the subject forgot your appluase lmao
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Very well written
Well I know this feeling very well lmao and recognised what you were talking about quite early on but for a man to write about this so well is very impressive and the acceptance of your subject to her situation comes through. I can't remember much silent anticipation when I had my children lmao.
Hugs
Cherry xxx
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... well now, your poem has shed some new light on your intended meaning and yet ... I still wonder about it all. She's great with child and will be delievering soon? and the metaphor is? j y
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Crofters have a lonely life and this picture, painted so well, highhlights the bettersweet nature of existence for a the wife.
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Yes, Yes! ...
a bittersweet sort of poem that is chocked-full of imagery that stirs a restless heart to leave home and roam ...
j
y
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waydownuponjoy
A very interesting spin on the poem. Proves the point, I guess, that what we say is never what is heard.
Thanks for jogging my memory; I've added some notes.
What else might the imagery suggest?
Thanks for commenting WDUJ -
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As poets ...
we must accept that because of a myriad of experiences our imagery may not be the same and yet our poetry may still reach out and touch the heart of another in quite the unexpected way. Your poem suggests the 'flight or fight' syndrome to me, the gypsy always keeps her shoes handy!
I suppose that one's work is never done and there is a price to pay for love that continues to stir within when the truth will never set one free.
Perhaps, as a man, and the author of this poem, you were sharing thoughts from the 'yin & yang' angle?
I must say that one of the problems with commenting is that I either share your work from my perspective or I try to view it from yours ... As for the details I tend to overlook them and let the poem move me however it does.
How about a return the favor for one of my poems? jy
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