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Array
(
[sid] => 76192
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => High Plains Vignettes
[time] => 2004-12-17 13:01:53
[hometext] => This is only the beginning of capsul stories/poems of those who trodded and explored and lived the high plains of North America. Eventually it will contain pre-historic, Native American and other such glimpses.
[bodytext] => High Plains Vignettes A Journey Not Finished White crystal blow anointed from high On the sheltered soul of will and bone Inclining un-tampered ‘gainst thoughts to cease The goal maintains the striving within Horizon afar whence begotten succeed There be not warmth within thy hand And sleep beckons fore to still the night So be this then an un-marked grave Beneath the sun and below the moon A Belated Christening Winter night labours scream Water warmed upon the stove Who knows what this had we never done Anxious fortitude to perform a deed Darkness without whale oil illumes The first will be thy sacred child Yet as something be wrong know not why Awaiting a wail and so small cry But did not come For on the ‘morrow Earth shall be blessed with tiny soul A wooden cross reveals her there Horizons Not Touched Wheels revolve agonized ‘pon ancient soil Grueling burden ‘hind percheron hooves Above and within ancestors watch or’ They know not the plains ahead Nor tumult these mighty skies convey Gulch looms ‘low with cragged bluffs Abruptly shattered the evening calm Cumulous dark decants forth Behind the wall moves swiftly on and to Without occasion to respond Now lies the ruin scattered about There be none to tell the tale ‘cept birds on perch and rodent trails Parched and Gone With scepter in hand and table before Libations flowed freely trollops in silk Petulant patrons contest fabled tales Ivories rattle distant ‘bove din of sound Revolver at side ‘neath well-dressed ‘tire Sight of spoils linger in mind Disparital product appeared on mesa flat Injected projectile unearthed ordained form A quiet sojurn at village edge None will know remains ‘cept salient reeds and wind at night Beleagured Toil Trek ardent miles to foreign hills Family knows not strife endured Of sand and heat toiled sweat burned soul Chiseled from the heat of day Frozen cold of bitter nights Tram below scant light to see Dolly transport filled worldly spoils Whistle moans through vacant halls Time intolerable stranded midst dark Up into light of day Is what for I yearn once more Gears and chains portent omen grim Severed chain and grinding wheel Not alone in shattering wails Morning rise to gaping pit Names nor letters withered mast Dust and sand epitaph forlorn souls Please comment as to the write as well as the beginning of the project...........thanks..........doug _________________ I am a simple man who wishes only to give good will to others and help them to see the beauty within themselves.................doug [comments] => 1 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 31 [informant] => newewe [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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