Farm Pond
First stubble, then steps of chimney stone;
The water’s sweet as birch sap, warm as blood.
Cut-paper lilies, frogs sliding among
Plump lily pads that poke from soft brown mud.
Dragonfly, unperturbed, curls her tail,
Plants her eggs on an arrowroot.
I roll and tumble, an otter pup
At play in green water.
Cinnamon bark'd pines scent the air,
As evening paints blue edges on the clouds.
From blue to pink, from pink to gray; the bats
Dart overhead as dripping, I climb out.
|
|
|
More by Sarah A. (I KANZ B UH RITUR!!!!) , YEZ!! |
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 38
I miss the dragonflies and frogs, they were so cool.
The cows liked to go into the water on hot days to cool off and they didn't think to leave to powder their noses !!!!
You must have done something interesting with your life after you got out of the pond.
(but first I liked to build tiny little mud towns at the shore)
When I fall into lock step rhyming it's because I'm too fearful to stray into the wondrous wild of free-woven wordage... (how 'bout that alliteration, eh!)
ABBA
DEFBN
Q
Oh. Does that mean that this is a bad poem? I'm sorry. I have no clue about this stuff.
Frank, humble and homely images.
If you wanted a rhyme scheme for the third stanza, end third line with "there" and put the bat on the fourth line. I don't think he'll mind.
Good stuff.
If your audience is those with a liberal arts education then leave it just the way it is.
I like the "freshwater seal" image a lot.
When I was a kid, my friend had a man-made pond on her family property, and a little rowboat. We'd catch frogs and toss them into the middle of the pond, and then see if we could race them back to shore.
Lovely poem, reminds me of the lovely days spent at Columbus' countryside. Thanks for sharing it.
I was freezing in the dark.
Columbus, OH? Home of the wondrous James Thurber?