My Country

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FranktheFrank
Posts: 1983
Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Location: Between the mountains and the sea

My Country

#1 Post by FranktheFrank » 28 May 2017, 15:03

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing
his as it should be blithe and strong,

Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892), I Hear America Singing

Seventy thousand voices
A low growl of double bass
to the tune of Buddugolaeth.
The south terrace baritones join in,
the music moves around the ground.
A small group sing the last line
in alto. A pause, a hush,
the tempo of the home side
visibly takes up:
The one eternal God and true
and let the sight affect, subdue,
and break this stubborn heart . . .


They have worked all week
in factories and mines,
unloaded iron ore and bauxite,
oil from the Niger. Loaded coal
for the colonies, machinery for Canada
vehicles for Australia.

Herded fields of dairy, sheep
on the high pastures, cut
timber from forest groves.
and from the seashore: lava,
cockles, mussels, and oysters,
a thousand tons and more.

At sea: trawlers and trollers
seiners and long-liners
bringing fish back to port:
Shannon, Sole and Fitzroy;
Rockall, Bailey, and Main.

Now is their reward,
to play the game
even in their minds,
to sing in harmony
with like minded: The People,
Welsh, Cymreig.

A wife at home, children
by the hearth, workmen in the pubs
drinking bitter beer.
The towns alive with laughter,
sounds of a nation at rest.

After the match, a meat filled pie
in gravy, a game of snooker,
then home. The bus humming,
overloaded, listing on corners,
full with bonhomie.

Sundays quiet,
save for the chapels,
streets still.
A few swimmers in the salt shallows,
Cricket for a few.

Cumulonimbi rest
on Pen y Fan,
unfolding like tablecloths.

On its lower reaches
lover entwine in the bracken
on sun soaked turf.

Above, haunting melodies
from the lark's in hovering flight,
guarding their chicks.

Always the sound of singing,
my Country.



The Hymn by: Charles Wesley (1707 - 1788), O Thou who Hast Redeeemed of Old

Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Re: My Country

#2 Post by Bernie01 » 29 May 2017, 06:18

hey Frank...



pretty heavy, the hym.

https://video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/sear ... tion=click


felt the need for compression and focus in this otherwise ambitious and exciting poem.


Seventy thousand voices
A low growl of double bass a double bass growl
to the tune of Buddugolaeth. tuned to Buddugolaeth.

The south terrace baritones join in,
the music moves around the ground.
me, i cut

A small group sing the last line
in alto.




now, the next six lines seem so much more clear and strong, to me...

A pause, a hush,
the tempo of the home side
visibly takes up:
The one eternal God and true
and let the sight affect, subdue,
and break this stubborn heart . . .


the next 12 lines make the lofty theme a bit hum drum....now, i favor documented flight of fancy with specifics,,,,but....but...


They have worked all week
in factories and mines,
unloaded iron ore and bauxite,
oil from the Niger. Loaded coal
for the colonies, machinery for Canada
vehicles for Australia.

Herded fields of dairy, sheep
on the high pastures, cut
timber from forest groves.
and from the seashore: lava,
cockles, mussels, and oysters,
a thousand tons and more./i]



At sea: trawlers and trollers
seiners and long-liners
bringing fish back to port:
Shannon, Sole and Fitzroy;
Rockall, Bailey, and Main.

Now is their reward,
to play the game
even in their minds,
to sing in harmony
with like minded: The People,
Welsh, Cymreig.

A wife at home, children
by the hearth, workmen in the pubs
drinking bitter beer.
The towns alive with laughter,
sounds of a nation at rest.

After the match, a meat filled pie
in gravy, a game of snooker,
then home. The bus humming,
overloaded, listing on corners,
full with bonhomie.

Sundays quiet,
save for the chapels,
streets still.
A few swimmers in the salt shallows,
Cricket for a few.

very nice lines, especially:

A few swimmers in the salt shallows,


me i cut the next lines:


Cumulonimbi rest
on Pen y Fan,
unfolding like tablecloths.

On its lower reaches
lover entwine in the bracken
on sun soaked turf.

Above, haunting melodies
from the lark's in hovering flight,
guarding their chicks.




Always the sound of singing,
my Country.

in the advent of soaked surf.



hope you are otherwise well. me, too.

your poetry pal,


bernie.

FranktheFrank
Posts: 1983
Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Location: Between the mountains and the sea

Re: My Country

#3 Post by FranktheFrank » 29 May 2017, 13:48

Thank you Bernie
I had intended to take a break from poetry, but then
I found one of mine on another site which had attracted
hardly any interest and after reading again I thought it had merit.

Enjoyed your review ever so much, so nice to see you back and working.

Glad you are well, us too here, summer is coming and the garden fills with
intoxicating aromas and colours, fronds and bees waving, seducing in love
of God's earth.

Interesting word: 'trollers' see explanation below.
A troller is also a fishing boat but it uses a large number of individual lines with baited hooks or lures. These are pulled at various depths behind the boat and are distributed down the length of a line with a very heavy weight at the bottom. Trollers typically have two of these lines, one on each side of the boat suspended from a long pole called an outrigger. The lines are deployed and retrieved by small powered winches called "gurdies." When fishing, the boat is controlled from the stern where the fisherman pulls the lines in and unhooks the fish, and places them in fish well for cleaning and icing down.

Best wishes

Ieuan

BobBradshaw
Posts: 2683
Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03

Re: My Country

#4 Post by BobBradshaw » 01 Jun 2017, 03:22

Good poem, Frank. I agree that it needs some trimming, but the energy and details really reel one in....

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