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Ma Cherie Sep 2016
Yut,
Well, I'd woke up early
**** rooster
just about  the crack of dawn
last crickets chirping loudly
heavy dew carpetin' the lawn
cold air, ya know
can see my breath that time of mornin'
as the tired furnace is  a kickin' in

Stretchin'

Emmmm hmmm, well dat'
woodstove she's a squirmin' with anticipation!
Yes sir,
smell of the incomin' weather
fresh cut and stacked Maple, except them box elder type you know gettin'
researched
Oak too, yut
some Birch ...burns real pretty

I hear them pumpkin patches callin'
eager to win those hearts
and the children
funny duffers in costumes

Ya, beckonin' a reckonin' they are
to become silky pies in their namesake
a big ol' mess left in that wake
from jack-o-lanterns,
& roasted an toasted
seeds of joy we use all win'ter 'round here

Kinda like the sound of them tires on the pavement ya know?
Warm hummin',
they're rustlin' down asphalt
with the leaves
visitors headed home again
will give way to the sloshin' of sleet, freezin' rain
whata' pain

Well here comes the ol' horses
and a wooden cart
to collect the trash
17 years
Percheron prizes them beauties
I really like that sound too
hoves clunkin' in perfect harmony

Yut, agreed,
love this place indeed
clip clopin' along with jinglin' bells soon
straight outta' Robert Frost he is

A symphony of smells
the ringin' of the church bells
time to eat
sighing

"Well...take a seat
Mornin' boys"

Oh Momma's up
Fill up her cup!

Oh thank you kindly
Well, we got some perfectly cooked hickr'y smoked local bacon
Scrambled eggs so beautiful and fluffy they look like clouds of clear yellow sunshine on that plate
those girls did well this year
Maple yogurt I insist on
with that crunchy homemade
sweet n' salty nut Granola
Don't forget some fresh fruit salad
stuff goin' on now
rest been reserved for winter days
Can't say that I'm not lookin' forward
to some wild blueberry pancakes
and that beautiful amber
Vermont maple syrup"

Yut,
was a lotta' work drainin' those sleepin' veins of golden sugar
emmmm
Is a great mornin'

"Good to savor the wonderful gifts the seasons bring, share and enjoy "

We certainly are grateful ma'am.

Take Your Hat Off What's The Hurry?
Just because...some people say "Yut" silencing the T here not everyone of course, I love old time Vermonter's they know everyone and everything!
David I Phillips Mar 2010
Wi yer eyes stingin n wet wi tears
N muk bungin up tha nose n ears
N a white rimmed ed where thi's ad thi hat
Up tha floats on't lift like a drownded rat

After twelve hours tha's pretty dun in
Whilst t'other folks as been kippin n dreamin
Tha's bin diggin n drillin like summart daft
Now up tha floats on't hydraulic raft

The cold morn air meks tha lungs urt
Cause tha's bin breathin muk n dirt
Fer nigh on forty years or more
That most folks wudn't ave on't floor

N as tha washes all't muk away
Tha knows thas sum that'll allus stay
N whilst outside tha luks nice n clean
Tha's stuff inside thi th't'll never be seen

Until o course tha's gon n died
N them docter fellers tek a look inside
N in amazement they'll stand n stare
At all that muk th't shudn't be there

N wen tha's ded it'll be nowt new
Not too a bloke what's lived like you
Fer now tha's on'y six feet under
Wen undreds is what thas bin used to

N't Crowner'll say thi ad a natural death
Not like them th't had their last breath
At sixteen, seventeen, twenty or more
When sum big explosions brought ceiling t floor

But a doubt if tha'll think it wer thi turn
As tha lays there nattering t worm
Crawlin in n out o yer ears
Not much t show fer sixtyodd years

Still what else cud you ave dun, that's it
But follow yer old man down pit
A mean even his dad was a facer tha knows
Kem out at thirty wi' ands like claws

Ah well it's time fer sum grub
Then half-a-dozen pints't pub
Wi an hour or two o noonday sun
Then back t wife fer an hour o fun
N be six next morning I'll be feelin well
As I teks yon raft t bowels of 'ell
Thirty shillin a week be summer the reckonin
Ah but then they can't see yon worm beckonin


Remember this is a 'Performance Poem'
and the style of writing acts as a
speech prompt. The accent is loosely
Yorkshire. A 'Crowner 'is an old word
for a Coroner.
I hope you enjoy it.

© David Irwin Phillips 2008
This is a performance poem, it also won first prize in a Writer's Magazine competeition
Can be heard on www.irwin-poetry.co.uk- From Emotional Swings & Round-a-bouts
wordvango Oct 2014
Once upon a time,
   whence when I learned to smile,
girls came a'beckonin'
   walks home were no longer alone,
and smiles smiled back.
   Night was severely shortened,
The morning arrived before
   I had the chance to dream.
I smiled.
David R Aug 2021
he walked along cracked, parched earth,
stick in hand, bent over,
gone were the dreams of youth and birth,
gone was resilience and fervour.

life had ****** out all vitality
no tears could be wrung from his heart
all was dry, all banality,
how he longed now for fresh start.

too long he'd walked along perfection,
not stepping on someone's toes,
too long ignored his own connection,
had fallen on his nose

he had laid himself wide open
to pink and pinch and ***** and punch,
now he saw the path a-slopin'
heading for final crunch.

he saw a rope, a saving line,
but had no strength to reach it,
so slid he down steep incline
his life and blood long-leeched

and now, at end, at finish-line,
he walks a crooked walk,
he cares no more for life's decline
nor those of crooked talk

there's a veil flappin' beckonin',
he knows now he must go,
he knows there'll be a reckonin'
for his play in the show

but he's had enough of fakery,
the double-talk and sham,
he welcomes break from apery
the falsehood and the scam

and as he neared his last few days,
his step 'came spry 'n sprightly,
for he could hear the songs of praise,
the sun that shone so brightly

for from the mist came love and truth,
a smile he used to dream of,
so he skipped to that new-found youth
and left the world that seemed of
BLT's Merriam-Webster Word of The Day Challenge
#pink #resilience

— The End —