Sunday, 28 March 2010

Jump on the poetry bus!

Choose a word and write a poem around it - that is the instruction this week. I chose the word Scrimshank - a nineteenth century military word to mean a backslider, an avoider of work.

Scrimshank.

Dust lies thick
where the sunlight falls;
it also falls on the apple blossom
on the old tree by the window.
Go out,
touch the blossom,
smell the Spring,
watch the bees
(those models of work and efficiency)
leave the dust on the shelf.

Weeds grow fast
in the garden.
Chickweed,
fat hen,
groundsel and
dandelions.
Bend to weed,
touch the yellow flowers,
hundreds of
miniature suns -
what right have I to destroy?

Will someone clean the windows?
Sunshine shows up
smears.
See that gossamer web in the corner?
See that busy spider plying his trade?
Leave the spider where she is -
she will not notice the smears.

Out of milk,
out of bread,
out of butter!
The road to the shop has
stupendous views of
The Vale of York -
hazy sun, slight mist,
trees etched in charcoal.
Sit awhile and
drink in the view.

I'll do the work tomorrow,
or the next day,
or the next....zzzzz.....zzzzz.

28 comments:

crazyfieldmouse said...

love this so much. makes me want to be less neurotic about the cobwebs, sit back and watch the world go by.
thanks for sharing
cfm

Rachel Fox said...

You've written my anthem, Weaver!
x

maggi said...

Now I know that I am right not to worry about the cobwebs and the dust. Thank you.

MarmaladeRose said...

Scrimshank - That would be an ideal nickname for my teenage son!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Lovely poem Weaver, crammed full ofwonderful natural things.Who could not resist 'the hundreds of miniature suns' ? Really enjoyed this and now I have another new word to describe my abject laziness!

Robin Mac said...

Welcome back, I have only just dfiscovered your return. I love the word scrimshank and all it conjures up - your poem catches it so well. Hope the back is almost back to normal. Cheers, Robin

Enchanted Oak said...

With every word, my heart hung on and shouted YES! I would rather touch the apple blossom than the dust any day.

Enchanted Oak said...

Forgot in my excitement to give you the link to mine.
I Hope the Bus Stops Here

jinksy said...

Exactly so, Weaver...

PurestGreen said...

I just love "sunshine shows up, smears"

Wonderful poem, full of bounce and light.

Heather said...

Wonderful word and wonderful poem Pat. The weeds and dust will wait for your back to heal!!

Hildred and Charles said...

Well, 'sunshine shows up smears' is a lovely line, but so dreadfully realistic.

I am waiting for the sun to be in its zenith overhead, - not sending its morning rays through my less than glistening windows.

Nice to have you back Weaver, - take care of your fragile back.

Wild Somerset Child said...

Lovely poem. I missed reading of the challenge but posted a poem around my chosen word (colour) yesterday; though the poem was actually written four years ago.

And I couldn't care less about cobwebs and dust; life is far too short !!!

Penny said...

Oh dear, this sounds like me, once I was such a fussy housewife, now there are better things to do.
A lovely poem.

Emerging Writer said...

what a super word. I shall use it daily

Dominic Rivron said...

I have heard it said that after 3 days dust doesn't appear to get any thicker...

Laziness is a -uniquely?- human attribute. Probably because we push ourselves too hard. Other animals do what they need to survive. We go well beyond that. I remember reading somewhere that people in a well-organised peasant culture needed to do 9 hours "work" a week on average (that would include everyone mucking in and of course in some weeks it would be a hell of a lot more).

Karen said...

I love that your poem begins with advice - Go out,/touch the blossom,/smell the Spring/watch the bees - and ends with your doing that very thing. Even though it is work that impels you, it is the beauty of the Vale that fulfills.

There are beautiful images here and a beautiful new header for your blog, too, Weaver.

Dave King said...

That's lovely, and to me so astounding that you got it from the prompt. I never could have got the one from the other. Beautiful - and so good to have you back again. Hope you are progressing well. Blessings.

the watercats said...

now that's what I am!... finally a name to name my kind :-)
loved all the imagery in this, just perfect!

Peter Goulding said...

Its a word that should be whispered slowly! I now have justification for sloth...

The Weaver of Grass said...

Thanks to you all. Lovely to be back. My intention now is to visit each one of you - so shall not leave individual comments here.
Sufficient to say that I got the idea from the poem "The Naming of Parts" by Henry Reed (I think), where he is gazing out of the window while being given a lesson on the parts of a rifle during the second world war.

Mac n' Janet said...

Loved your poem, sunshine can make even dust and smears look beautiful.

Argent said...

A woman after my own heart! Miniature suns. We do make life harder for ourselves than we need don't we? This poem is a real tonic.

dinesh chandra said...

good poetry.

regads'
Dinesh Chandra

NanU said...

good idea!
never mind mowing the lawn - it's full of flowers, and catsnacks this way.
zzzzz

Domestic Oub said...

such a lovely poem, I am all chilled and relaxed after reading it :)

Hildred and Charles said...

Thank you for your visit Weaver, - I re-read your poem and the following thought came to mind.

'Besides the noble art of getting things done, there is the noble art of leaving things undone. The wisdom of life consists in the elimination of non-essentials'.

Am wondering if this could be your 'scrimshaw's' philosophy of life. It bears pondering?

BT said...

Oh Pat, that is superb, I just love it. I can't help but pull up the weeds, though. I can avoid all the rest!!