Go | New | Find | Notify | Tools | Reply |
Factor |
I hope I'm not presuming too much to bring back a poem for this season that I posted some years ago. Anyway, here 'tis. I'll put it up in 'chunks' like the first time. Mebbe it's okay with you olden-tyme members that I do this. If not, then off with my head! Christmas Hunt A settler of yore from his own cabin door Stepped to leave all the good warmth behind, And gritted his teeth 'gainst the icy grief That struck him nearly blind. He was given no choice if he'd feed his young boys, And their mother, whose larder was bare -- Lo, many a day this storm had held sway, Now to face it he finally must dare. His best hope of all, he paused to recall, Was that this day'd be Christmas Ev'n, So he lifted his hand in prayer for his clan -- Perhaps the Christ Child, Himself, would relieve them . . . The snow, piled high, had cleared from the sky, With hissing sleet the next thing to follow; So, with woolens wrapped thick, from foot to the hip, He waded cold depths toward a hollow. More to come, FiddlesticksThis message has been edited. Last edited by: Fiddlesticks, As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | ||
|
<mtnmike> |
Keep it coming | ||
Factor |
'Twas a cedar glade there which oft stilled the air, Where in such weather the deer would recline; If given a chance under a low and green branch, He'd make meat he so needed in time. O'er the prow of the hill and straight into the chill He cautiously struggled e'er downward, To find the cedars at last, which shielded the blast, Hoping hunger would soon now be conquered. He thought of his home as he went on alone; Of his kith so beloved to him, How 'tween drought and corn borers and Indian wars They'd been left short of food once again. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Onward he groped down the darkening slope, A'gazing through crystals a'frozen; He trudged without slack 'til he cut a fresh track, Then another! Then maybe a dozen! Hope filled his worn face as he slowed down his pace, And unwrapped the lock from greased skin; The horn at his side was tipped and applied, Then the frizzen closed over the pan. The tracks made a line through the thickest entwine, Where the evergreens closely enmeshed, Then ambled around for a place to lay down, The hunter hoped his ordeal was soon finished. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
On slightly bent knees he shuffled and squeezed 'Tween boughs doubled over with snow, Then he picked out some grey where still a deer lay -- And crept closer before it could know. The sleet biting his face would show him no grace As his lock came from under his arm, But he must do his own best to stand to this test, Afore the deer could become too alarmed. He was blinking his aim down his rifle's long plain As ice needles shot fury against him; Found a hole in the brush where his bullet might rush, Fired - and hoped the deer'd be mortally stricken. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Back home was his clan, and with evening at hand, The last of the bread had been given, To the boys who had shared each crumb unaware Of why mother's heart had seemed sorely riven. When tucked in their beds and kissed on their heads, Mother stepped out into the gathering dark; She looked everywhere through thick frozen air, Wisht her husband was back at their hearth. Turning to go she spied in the snow, A sparrow, much famished - all in. The Good Book had said, one day when she read, 'God sees every sparrow that's fallen'. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
She took it inside where it warmed up and dried, Found a crust in her son's wooden trencher; The bird ate with zest then flew about its new 'nest', Feeling safe from any and all danger. Mother bowed her head lowly and gave these words slowly, "Lord, I know this wee bird you do see -- Look 'pon my sons' father, if it isn't a bother, And bring him home 'gain to them and to me." Another moment she stayed feeling more words should be prayed, In case others were caught in the blast, For, whoever they were, she wished to ensure, That their lives'd also be spared at the last. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Schticks, I had forgot this. It is great writing. Keep it coming. León PS. The lights have been on now for over two weeks. Thanks to the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. pistuo deo lalo | |||
|
Factor |
Thanks Volie. Good news about the hacienda! Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Daylight burned low as her man churned through the snow After the deer, it's blood trail was plain; With his shot gone awry from the storm in his eye, He would not let this hunt end in vain. Through the whole valley they went, yet the deer was not spent, As the trail led him farther away From hearth, sons and wife left alone in their strife, Then lo! there before him it lay! But as he drew close he suddenly froze -- From its side an arrow was sticking, A turkey vaned shaft, Osage by its craft -- Things were getting a whole lot more tricky! More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
The Osage had been a great enemy to him, And had stolen his stock from his farm. Because of their theft he was of cattle bereft; His anger toward them was quite warm. The Osage, though, felt that where white men now dwelt, Took away their best hunting grounds; And were hungry also, and forced into the snow, To make meat wherever 'twas found. The hunter felt pale as he searched every swale, Then a man stepped from a dark thicket deep; With a shaft on his string made ready to sing -- That deer he intended to keep! More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Tense was the hunter with nothing to utter, Who quickly brought his rifle to bear, Both, on a hunch, took a shot all at once, Their missiles were both in the air. Alas, it would be, that each man would then see, How his shot pierced through the other, Both were brought low, soon to lay in the snow, Full of hate, yet in death would be brothers. Mother, back home, faced the night watch alone, Her vigil bringing angst to her soul; She'd felt all along that something was wrong, . . . Christmas Eve was taking its toll . . . More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
Keep it coming!! Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin | |||
|
Factor |
Thanks! I'll keep plugging away at it. Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
In her felt danger she thought of the manger, Lo, the meaning of the Christ Child laid there! How the angels did sing and the heavens did ring, Could not one visit the needy down here? Far away through the hills was a glow 'midst the chill, A merry fire in a bluff shelter warm; A stalwart young man had taken in hand, To care for these enemies thus harmed. The settler came to as if a dream had come true, And basked in the fire's halo; Covered with skins and warm deep within -- How he got there he had yet to know. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
<mtnmike> |
This is great! Keep it coming,,,, | ||
Factor |
Thanks 'Mike. About half done. Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
There was a stirring nearby with a questioning sigh, Then the Osage raised up with a start, Saw the white man up close as if seeing a ghost, For he'd loosed his shaft at his heart. The white man then looked where the arrow had struck; A wound he found in his breast; Next came the turn for the red man to learn, That a round ball was lodged in his chest. Though it was late in the night they were ready to fight, But none of their weapons were near, So they laid back to brood, each one in the mood, To kill the other over who owned the deer. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
When their eyes next did meet 'twas 'pon venison sweet, A big chunk was a'roast o'er the coals; They knew it was from they very hunt they'd just done, Being famished, the sight blessed their souls! But whose would it be with just one piece 'tween three, And they too weak to really defend it? Did the young man with them take them in just to grin, While he ate up their meat like a bandit? But the young man seemed nice and with a knife then did slice It in two, and gave one half to each; Said, "It took all you both know to make meat in this blow, And together you've turned out a feast." More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Factor |
These words to the wise showed up in their eyes, Though they scarcely looked 'pon each other, And they ate their whole fill from their bounteous kill, Yet kept their feud (for that was their druthers). Then it gradually dawned that they weren't nearly as harmed, As their fierce wounds would normally be, For it entered their heads that they both should be dead, And so they pondered who this young man might be . . . One thought him as white, but wasn't sure that was right, While the other hoped the young man was red; But his obvious place was fully of each race, Completely both -- not divided instead. More to come, Fiddlesticks As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...) | |||
|
Powered by Social Strata | Page 1 2 3 |
Please Wait. Your request is being processed... |