Tired, we sat grouped around the pot belly
Legs akimbo, sprawled, resting on the carpeted table
we sipped Genever
some liked sugar stirred in
with a silver spoon
The stove emitted a splutter
a flame wandered out of a crevice
in the cast iron, fluttering like an angel's wing
Keeping us focused for the moment
Maastenbroek uttered one of his inane remarks
we grinned, the Genever working its charm
soaking into every joint, warming our spent muscles
Magnus Harcus gave way to a fart
Just the way he liked it
We looked out on the street
through the French windows
Renny pulled back the lace
and we watched the snow mesmerisingly fall
The clock echoed its tic then a tock in the large room
the street noise subdued, dampened by the falling snow
the quietness broken by our chuckles
as Vrouw Hendrix took a tumble on the ice
Drilling Crew at Rest
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- Posts: 1987
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: Drilling Crew at Rest
Not a bad poem, needs pruning maybe.
Tight, grouped around a stove
Legs akimbo, sprawled,
resting on a carpeted table
sipping genever,
sugar stirred in
with a silver spoon.
The pot-belly emitts a splutter,
a flame wanders out of a crevice,
a crack in the iron
flutters like an angel's wing.
Maastenbroek lifts a leg,
groans, we grin, geneva
soaking into every joint.
Magnus Harcus mutters
in indecipherable Scots brogue.
We look out of French windows,
Renny pulls back the lace,
mesmerised by snow
The clock echoed its tic
then a tock in the large room
the street noise subdued,
dampened by falling snow,
we chuckle as Vrouw Hendrix takes
a tumble on the icey pavement.
Tight, grouped around a stove
Legs akimbo, sprawled,
resting on a carpeted table
sipping genever,
sugar stirred in
with a silver spoon.
The pot-belly emitts a splutter,
a flame wanders out of a crevice,
a crack in the iron
flutters like an angel's wing.
Maastenbroek lifts a leg,
groans, we grin, geneva
soaking into every joint.
Magnus Harcus mutters
in indecipherable Scots brogue.
We look out of French windows,
Renny pulls back the lace,
mesmerised by snow
The clock echoed its tic
then a tock in the large room
the street noise subdued,
dampened by falling snow,
we chuckle as Vrouw Hendrix takes
a tumble on the icey pavement.
Re: Drilling Crew at Rest
hey DF
colorful tale, Jack London in modern dress.
the details make this a complete experience for me and the subtle ending adds dimension and emotion.
and the close is just plain old good writing:
The clock echoed its tic then a tock in the large room
the street noise subdued, dampened by the falling snow
the quietness broken by our chuckles
as Vrouw Hendrix took a tumble on the ice
I like this poem for the colorful detail and generous spirit conveyed through the cast.
bernie
colorful tale, Jack London in modern dress.
the details make this a complete experience for me and the subtle ending adds dimension and emotion.
and the close is just plain old good writing:
The clock echoed its tic then a tock in the large room
the street noise subdued, dampened by the falling snow
the quietness broken by our chuckles
as Vrouw Hendrix took a tumble on the ice
I like this poem for the colorful detail and generous spirit conveyed through the cast.
bernie
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- Posts: 2691
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Drilling Crew at Rest
I enjoyed the earthiness of this. But I also appreciate what Frankly has done with his suggested changes. His rhythm and breakup of lines is quite nice. A good narrative...best