Showing posts with label rural life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rural life. Show all posts

Thursday, November 14, 2019

The Rural Truth

PAD Challenge 12: For today’s prompt, write a myth poem. 
Reinterpret a common myth, create a brand new myth, and/or mention a myth in passing.

Because there's so much to see and do in the country!





Some think that country-life offers endless monotonies
No malls, fine entertainers, restaurants, art galleries
Some wonder what we rural-bumkins find to do for fun
And while it may be true this life is not for everyone
I’d like to take a minute to debunk misconstrued myths
And perhaps change your mind about the way country-life is

The aisles/isles we walk are woodsy; skylines seem to have no end
Earth’s fashionistas grandly sport the latest, timeless trend
Where we become refreshed, not weary, on a spending spree
That needs no cash or credit; there is no admission fee
To the world’s greatest art gallery you will ever find
Wisp of wild grass etched on a canvas eth’real as the wind

And if we need to pause perhaps, to sit and rest a bit
We will be entertained by feathered choristers that flit
Among the dark and light of leaves where breeze-brushed sunbeams strum
The strings of willow cellos to the beat of shadow-drums
The food we serve is garden-fresh and at our fingertips
Bloom-bistros cater to the bumbling bee, tipsy with sips

The brook-beribboned vista, summer-steeped or autumn-drained
Or winter silver-white stirs sheer delight hard to explain
With never enough poetry or hours in a day
To spell all that there is to spell before it slips away
Where sweat and toil sweetens the spoil of hillside picnics, oh
And credits dot the big-screen sky after dusk’s colour-show

…and often we are dumbstruck by the grand simplicity
Such as the silhouette at sunset of a leafless tree
Or starry, starry nights where black and white the land, sleep-kissed
Is like a still-life painting set where time does not exist
But, just like anything, no matter where we choose to visit
We have to make the time to take it in
 or else we miss it

© Janet Martin



Monday, June 5, 2017

Rural Summer Mural





Halo of mist on a morn half-awake
Lowing of cattle-beast wafts on the air
Gentle, so gentle, is rural daybreak
Echo of Eden and God walking there

Raindrops on roses, far hills, baby-blue
Heaven lends earth little glimpses, oh my
Meadow-sweeps dazzle with diamonds of dew
Beauty unstoppers a flask held sky-high

Hearty and humble, each task close at hand
Laundry-lines laden with cotton ballet
Coffers of sun-gold spill over the land
Rousing aroma of alfalfa-hay

Happy hens clucking a laid-an-egg boast
Red rooster fluffing his look-at-me strut
Fresh coffee fragrance, berry jam on toast
Life leaves so little to rankle with ‘but’

Somewhere a violinist, soft and slow
Across an ocean of barley and wheat
Touches its tawny timbre with a bow
Stirring a ballad of dust, sultry-sweet

Pink portulaca in pots on a porch
Lazy dog lolls on the cool of the floor
Screen door slaps languidly, noon lights a torch
Garden-gifts gathered for lunch and much more

Purple coneflowers play a petal hymn
Maple-tree awning spawns sit-a-spell shade
Buzz of cicada tunes afternoon’s limb
Simple siesta of cold lemonade

Twilight delivers rose-gold lullaby
Highlighting shivers of leaf on the air
Gentle, so gentle, rural eventide
Echo of Eden and God walking there

© Janet Martin