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Array
(
[sid] => 71707
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Bucketfull of Berries
[time] => 2004-11-16 02:35:43
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A cold calm breeze came softly through the window A blue jay sat silently on the tall birch tree Watching a man The old man is sitting, watching the blue jay Unable to enjoy Incapable to resist trying He sits silently letting the wind blow softly through his light gray hair As he sits he hears the joyful laughter of little children Memories flood his mind as the noises come and go ******* A young child, swinging alone The sun setting in the west over the mountains The sky glowed with a pinkish tinge The sweet fall air was a glorious event With no care to worry And no worry to care He sits and he swings He dreams about the future to come About love, family and the job that will be As the sky dimmed he set off for home His mother calling and father working in the field He reaches his house full of joy As his mother has made a meal for a King He feels like a Prince as he sits on his chair A throne of sorts, Emperor of his land Master of all he can see He loves his mother and her cooking And wonders how she became so perfect He wants to learn but hasn’t the patience Patience is a virtue his mother told him The more he tries to learn it His mind understands less About life and love And the fun he used to have ******* His swing no longer swings No more buckets for his mother He has grown up they say He has been gone for three years and hasn’t come back His father is gray and grows weak His mother isn’t twenty anymore And she longs for the Prince to return to his throne But he has grown into a King And has a new throne With a new Queen to be his companion There is even a little Prince or Princess on the way But he too wishes for his mother And to fill the buckets one more time He recalls the swing and the childhood dreams Of a small country boy without a care He thinks of the life that his child should have And the dangers and fears that await him in his life If he could travel back he would To the small country house, modest and meek To a life of freedom and simple bliss Oh, to have this would be divine ******* But he falls back into reality And into his office chair as his phone rings And the intercom blares “ Mr. @#$%^&*, to the front desk” He mumbles and groans And falls over with a horrible thud A scream is heard and a man yells “Get an ambulance, call 911!” The next 20 years were a blur to him His family passed, his child grown His nurse is a wonderful gal Dawn, I think is her name He rarely knows her name But he sits and stares Still without a care Now in a retirement home ******* He admires the blue jay In its natural beauty wishing he could fly But he sits and stares and knows his life is near the end And Dawn gives him his pills And he goes to sleep During the night he breathes his last He opens his eyes and he is back home In the country with his swing His wife, mother and father are all waiting for him He calls to them “wait fifteen minutes” And then runs towards the forest Ten minutes passed and he returns With a bucket full of berries [comments] => 3 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 43 [informant] => OttawaPoet84 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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