Poetry anyone?
Posted: Thu Jan 19, 2017 2:28 pm
I know, I know. This is why you bought your guns in the first place- to shoot poets or at least efficiently usher them off your property with a little authority- and fast! I've been writing poetry since I was a child. Perhaps I am trying to return to those days of my youth.
This poem attempts to do just that. Being from the rural country meant we had to create our own entertainment most days. Two cousins, two bikes, plus no fear of trespassing, equals mucho trouble in most cases...but lots of times we were able to safely explore an area and get out without an incident.
I guess we were either lucky or had a couple of overworked and underappreciated angels assigned to us! Either way, here is a poem I wrote about one of those many misguided adventures. I hope you enjoy!
“The Shack”
We traveled by foot
to the end of the tracks
our last steps in silence
as we neared the old shack
Far from the world's noises
deep in the woods
under two hugging oaks
there the shack stood
Boards bearded with ivy
rust-stained by nails
sat the stories untold
with no secrets unveiled
We crept in like ninjas
over floors filled with cracks
just what could be lurking
inside the old shack?
The fireplace had curtains
of dense spider webs
grim visions of yesterday
grew thick in our heads
Prowling round corners
we looked high and low
with soft pressing soles
shattered glass at our toes
What happened here
we can only suppose
Who rocked in that chair?
Cooked meals on this stove?
But no words were spoken
and none did we hear
damp, dusky smells
mixed well with our fear
Walls filled with emptiness
dust danced in the beams
we were stirring up trouble
waking dark, distant dreams
We always left before nightfall
to make our way back
leaving mysteries to sleep
in the old, creepy shack
gmw 2008
This poem attempts to do just that. Being from the rural country meant we had to create our own entertainment most days. Two cousins, two bikes, plus no fear of trespassing, equals mucho trouble in most cases...but lots of times we were able to safely explore an area and get out without an incident.
I guess we were either lucky or had a couple of overworked and underappreciated angels assigned to us! Either way, here is a poem I wrote about one of those many misguided adventures. I hope you enjoy!
“The Shack”
We traveled by foot
to the end of the tracks
our last steps in silence
as we neared the old shack
Far from the world's noises
deep in the woods
under two hugging oaks
there the shack stood
Boards bearded with ivy
rust-stained by nails
sat the stories untold
with no secrets unveiled
We crept in like ninjas
over floors filled with cracks
just what could be lurking
inside the old shack?
The fireplace had curtains
of dense spider webs
grim visions of yesterday
grew thick in our heads
Prowling round corners
we looked high and low
with soft pressing soles
shattered glass at our toes
What happened here
we can only suppose
Who rocked in that chair?
Cooked meals on this stove?
But no words were spoken
and none did we hear
damp, dusky smells
mixed well with our fear
Walls filled with emptiness
dust danced in the beams
we were stirring up trouble
waking dark, distant dreams
We always left before nightfall
to make our way back
leaving mysteries to sleep
in the old, creepy shack
gmw 2008
