Another Dawn, Another Day.
© Ron Boughton Nov. ‘24.
A wispy early mist, that floats so silent on the morn’
was cloaking Grandpa’s tool shed after breaking of the dawn.
Then as he’d done so many times, in recent heartfelt years
he gathered some gardening tools, but, no more were there tears.
For times the ache he felt inside would sometimes come and go
as love for his departed wife he’d never fail to show,
and on this day, once again, he’d make the trek to her grave
to tidy up, and reminisce, the good times that she gave.
He wandered down, towards the grassy paddock by the creek,
with faithful Kelpie by his side, he did not have to speak,
to tell the dog their destination -that he knew for sure-
because, they’d made this pilgrimage so many times before.
They left the creek then through the fence below the wooded hill
to where the lonely grave there sat in pictured silence still,
he weeded, cleaned and tidied up, until, it looked so good
and soft brown eyes of the Kelpie, showed he too, understood.
He chatted to her lovingly with rhetorical intent,
and told her of his news to date of how his days were spent,
and how the kids were coming for the Summer holiday
but hoped, the farm would see some steady rain before their stay.
Then gathering up his tools he saw the Kelpie’s sharp ears raise
and then a distant lightning flash gave hope in many ways,
for by the time they reached the toolshed, when back home again,
The heavens broke and nostrils filled, with the earthy smell of …rain!
Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
Moderator: Shelley Hansen
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Re: Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
G/day Ron
Reminds me of my grandfather too, whose wife (Grandma) was incapacitated by a stroke,
and he lived by himself for some years. But made the 10 mile journey from the farm to see her in hospital a couple of times a week.
Your poem highlights the enduring love of those who really cared for their partners come what may.
Makes you realize that eventually one partner will almost certainly be left by themselves, through no fault of their own - the lonely years, I guess.
Terry
Reminds me of my grandfather too, whose wife (Grandma) was incapacitated by a stroke,
and he lived by himself for some years. But made the 10 mile journey from the farm to see her in hospital a couple of times a week.
Your poem highlights the enduring love of those who really cared for their partners come what may.
Makes you realize that eventually one partner will almost certainly be left by themselves, through no fault of their own - the lonely years, I guess.
Terry
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Re: Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
Oh Ron, how poignant! This is a beautiful poem, and as Terry said, really makes you think about enduring love and inevitable loss. The way you finished it on an uplifting note was most unexpected and a lovely touch.
Catherine
Catherine
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Re: Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
Thanks so much Terry and Catherine,
Yes sadly for many it is 'the lonely years' for those who survive their longtime partner and face what is suddenly unfamiliar territory.
All part of life's mystery, (and lottery) I guess.
Ron
Yes sadly for many it is 'the lonely years' for those who survive their longtime partner and face what is suddenly unfamiliar territory.
All part of life's mystery, (and lottery) I guess.
Ron
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Re: Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
This is so good Ron - and such an imaginative use of the prompts! Very poignant indeed.
Shelley Hansen
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"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
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Lady of Lines
http://www.shelleyhansen.com
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
(CJ Dennis "The Mooch o' Life")
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Re: Nov. homework. Another Dawn, Another Day.
Thanks so much Shelley.
Cheers
Ron

Cheers
Ron