Enga mellom fjella

Farmer's hymn: an englyn milwr

Farmer's hymn

Raking acorns, hear my plea:
let dusk fall, so I can pee;
let the nighttime come to me;

let the sleeptime give me dreams;
please revive me when dawn gleams.
Now each Fall, I pray for Spring.

In the winter shooing crows
let Sun rise and melt the snow,
warm the engine, then I'll go

get the groceries, milk and bread,
so my little ones are fed,
kissed and hugged then tucked in bed.

Come the Springtime: hail the rains,
frogs that ribbit, joints that pain,
giving thanks not all's in vain.

Planting sweet corn, hear my plea:
let dusk fall so I can pee;
let the peacetime come to me.

© 2008 Kåre Enga [165.82] 2008-05-26

alfred booth, wanbli ska challenged us to write an englyn milwr, a Welsh form of triplets with 7 syllable lines that rhyme. This was my effort. Note that I call it a hymn. This is because I used a well known hymn that has a meter of 7/7/7/7/7/7 as a template. If you know the hymn, it can be sung to the tune, as I closely followed the caesuras even though the rhyme scheme is quite different and throws me off.

ME:

I ate a barbeque runza with onion rings. Spent over $5. **ouch** Went for a walk. Inhaled the cooling moist air from the evening's storm. Didn't do much. Another lost day ...

IMAGINE

In the bathtub: sitting in the water, cooling, turning on the faucet, first the feet are warm and then the butt, then hot! then turning on the cold, the nether region cooling down, the shoulders heating up.

Through Naismith Valley: The path is soaked and the vernal pool is full; the frog sings under the clouds that gather in the cool calm skies; the frog goes silent, sings anew once I pass by.

The ditch drains fast, but the crick has risen to its task of draining lawns and parking lots. White honeysuckle and whiter clover perfume the air. The marsh ground squishes beneath my shoes. I spy a spot of white that doesn't move: a plastic bag.

Where the sidewalk's strewn with yellowed leaves of cottonwood, the elm leaves curl brown and cotton floats through air from unknown sources to the east. I catch, release.

By the bridge: purple clover and gold dandelions, quiescent pool. The somber green of a grey clad evening; the birdsong and the gentle waft of breeze before the storm.

At the end of the trail that empties into a cul-de-sac, one big tan rock to sit and write on.

WRITING:

I sat down with my mini-book of flower painting of Georgia O'Keeffe and started writing down ideas. Completed four (two medium length, two short).These poems will probably be a bit different than the previous batch, not all of which have been entered, edited or polished off.

BLOGVILLE:

Only 16 views of this blog on American Memorial Day. Tied Mother's Day for fewest views this month!

Obviously, folks have things to do with family and are otherwise busy. I have no family in this state and have no means to go anywhere, so I'm here.

Kansas: Drizzle at 00:00 and 65º; stormy in Kansas. ** Image ID #1295354 Unavailable ** .

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