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Author Name: FreeFireHam 3 Comments
Date Added: November 22, 2009 12:11:06 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Category: General/Word Banks Add To Favorites | Text Only
 
A Simpler Time
A Simpler Time

I had an appointment, an important deadline to meet.
This was a top priority business meeting that I had to keep.
 
Exiting the city with all of its hustle and bustle, I anticipated seeing the countryside.
It was to be a long drive through the country and I intended to enjoy the ride.
 
A tornado-producing thunderstorm had pushed through the night before.
The air was fresh and cool. I wondered what this day would have in store.
 
I drove down an old backroad that twisted and turned like a grapevine.
My radio was off and my top was down. I was having a really great time.
 
I passed an old stonewall that twisted with every turn of that old road.
The sweet aroma of jasmine and honeysuckle seemed to lighten my load.
 
Wild flowers were interwoven through the underbrush along the entire drive.
My senses gave me the feeling of exhilaration and I felt very much alive.
 
I was on a hilltop not far from Flagstone and everything was doing fine.
Then my car began to have trouble and the engine started to whine.
 
Where could I get my car fixed out in the middle of nowhere?
Then I saw an oldbarn through the trees not far from there.
 
Approaching an old logcabin house, I worried what type people lived here.
No one answered my knock out front. I headed toward the backdoor in the rear.
 
I knocked on the door and through the screen, I heard an elderly man speak.
Then I heard someone walking toward the door because I heard the floor creak.
 
The old man invited me in. The smell of woodsmoke permeated the air.
Looking around I noticed all the furnishings were ancient; all I could do was stare.
 
The old man was aged as much as his house. There were many lines on his face.
But his smile was very reassuring. He was the picture of gentleness and grace.
 
A crackling fire was in the fireplace. Each ember flew up the chimney like a firefly.
The man asked if I’d like some coffee or some buttermilk, which I chose not to try.
 
He brought my coffee then we went outside and I sat on the porchswing.
Outside I heard the birds chirping and I even saw a woodchuck scurrying.
 
The scene appeared as if I had traveled back in time at least 100 years.
I asked where his wife was. After a pause, I saw his eyes begin to tear.
 
He said, ”Over by the steeplebush, do you see that gravestone over there?
I buried my precious Buttercup by the rose garden that she loved so dear.”
 
I told him I was sorry. He said, “That’s alright, my precious died 20 years ago.
We had 6 inches of snowfall when she caught pneumonia. I really miss her so!”
 
He sniffled and blew his nose and then he got up from his chair.
He told me to come and see something he wanted to show me over there.
 
We passed by an old cowbarn and a rooster began to crow.
Hung outside the old barn door was a copper cowbell donchaknow.
 
Then he showed me an old cistern waterwell.
I am not joking when I say that it was cold as hell!!!
 
Then we passed by the outhouse. I could have done without that smell.
I’m glad it is quite some distance away from that cistern waterwell!
 
I saw a wetstone for sharpening tools and a woodpile, where he cut his firewood.
He had it all neatly stacked. There was plenty for winter and that was very good.
 
There was a sawhorse, a bucksaw and a pitchfork stuck in a pile of hay.
The old man wasn’t afraid of hard work. That’s one thing for sure I’ll say.
 
Parked by the hay barn was a tractor that was at least 30 years older than me.
“They don’t mak’em like this any more,” he said, “but I take care of it you see.”
 
There was an old gristmill with a waterwheel that was powered by a stream.
With no electricity, a candlestick, the only source of illumination it seemed.
 
The old man took me inside the mill for a closer inspection.
Inside was a millstone, which was still in working condition.
 
Used to grind the corn harvested from the cornfield for over a century old.
The building was extremely weathered. The outsides covered with leafmold.
 
I saw his garden. He grew ragrug, buckwheat and an outcrop of watercress.
I couldn’t believe how this nice old man lived but I was very much impressed.
 
The kind old man helped me start my car. It was getting very late.
Driving on that country road with starlight and shadows was really very great.
 
One day I would like to go back to that quiet little farmhouse in the country,
As long as he doesn’t show me his pet chipmunk or his many books of poetry.
 
FireHam
05/28/2005
Author's Notes:
This is a poem I submitted for a word challenge poetry contest... The first contest I ever entered… There were 47 words available to use and I managed to find a place for all of them... It was hard work but mega fun to exercise my brain... I have just a few questions though... What  is ragrug and what is an "outcrop of watercress"??? LOL!!! Ham

Here are the 47 words we had to use:

backroad - leafmold - stonewall - chipmunk - underbrush - grapevine - woodchuck - shadow - woodsmoke - cowbarn - honeysuckle - woodpile - sawhorse - bucksaw - outhouse - waterwell - backdoor   porchswing - flagstone - buttermilk - candlestick - ragrug - aroma - logcabin - hilltop - outcrop - cowbell  buttercup - wetstone - thunderstorm - pitchfork - steeplebush - tractor - cornfield - millstone - waterwheel - watercress - buckweat - firefly - cracklingfire - gravestone - snowfall - starlight - tornado - jasmine - rooster – oldbarn
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'A Simpler Time' Copyright © Harold Ham McLelland
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Comments:
Comment By: FreeThe Bag Lady on November 23, 2009 11:35:28 AM Report
WOW, Ham~!!!  I give you five stars ***** for this work of art...You have brought us EVERYTHING imaginable in the countryside...This must have given you a headache for sure...*smile*....I loved it...loved the word usage~!!  Thanks for bringing it to CP....

Hugs, Margaret.......

Comment By: FreeShe Whispers on November 22, 2009 03:07:55 PM Report
Again you bless us with your talent as a writer awesome story and great words to work with....
Comment By: FreeLinda Jo on November 22, 2009 01:14:28 PM Report
a rag rug is a circular braided rug made from strips of old fabric...not something planted in the garden but oh well...this was a delightful story and there are  still people who live like this...they have found a peaceful place to call home.  interesting subject for your winning poem...




 


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