Eternal Peacock (rev mid stanza & remove song lines)
Posted: 19 Jan 2019, 01:06
Revision 5 (revised middle stanza)
Calon Lan, a Welsh hymn,
lyrics by Daniel James in 1890’s,
music by John Hughes
Eternal Peacock
you slump against my ageing
kitchen tiles, cobalt plumes
lacklustre and scarred,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
I await the timer's ping
when your retirement begins.
In your prime, Mam sang Calon Lan
as we prepared Sunday tea
chopping Dad’s garden veg
on your cream underbelly,
to pile into a salad bowl.
Ham rashers were sharpened with
the tang of Mam’s apple chutney,
warm bloomer slices
seasoned with salty butter.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Grandad’s flat cap,
a bucketful of their painted
pebbles and a feather
from my first love.
------------------------------------------
Edits
stanza 2 was:
In your prime Mam sang Calan Lan,
as we prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading
on your cream underbelly
filling the salad bowl with veg
that Dad had grown. Sandwiches,
rashers of ham, sharpened
with her apple chutney,
seasoned with salty butter
on oven-warm bloomer slices.
I have missed out the lines from Calon Lan as I felt it stopped the flow into the last stanza.
-----------------------------------------------------
Revision 4
Eternal Peacock
you slump against my ageing
kitchen tiles, cobalt plumes
now scratched and lacklustre,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
When the timer pings.
your retirement will begin.
In your prime, Mam’s salad bowl
was piled with lettuce, topped
with thinly chopped tomato,
and Dad’s home grown spring onions.
Ham rashers were enhanced
with the tang of Mam’s apple chutney
and completed with slices
of fresh bloomer and salty butter.
She sang Calan Lan as we
prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading,
on your cream underbelly.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Dad’s flat cap, a bucketful
of their painted pebbles
and a feathered brooch
from my first love.
--------------------------------------------------
Revision 3
Eternal Peacock
slumped against my ageing
kitchen tiles, your cobalt plumes
now scratched and lacklustre,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
You will be replaced
by a new pine pig: I wait
for the timer to ping.
A salad bowl piled with lettuce,
tomato, cucumber, thinly chopped,
topped with Dad’s spring onions.
Sliced Bloomer with salty butter
accompanied ham rashers
and Mam’s tangy chutney.
She sang Calan Lan as we
prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading,
on your cream underbelly.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Dad’s flat cap, a bucketful
of their painted pebbles
and a feathered brooch
from my first love.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This revision was written before I read recent replies from Ken & Bob, but I thought I'd post it anyway.
Changes made - I've combined stanzas !&3 and addressed the poem to the bird.
Eternal Peacock (rev 2)
once vivid cobalt your plumes,
now lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from oversoaking,
slumped against my ageing
kitchen tiles, soon to be replaced.
The new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down
as I wait for the timer to ping.
Mam in floral pinny to cover
her Sunday best, chops veg
on your cream underbelly.
York ham and salad for Sunday
tea, sliced white bread, lavished
with salty Welsh butter.
My children will find you
in an attic trunk, alongside Dad’s
flat cap, a bucketful of their painted
pebbles and letters from my first love.
-------------------------------------------
Eternal Peacock (revision 1)
Once vivid cobalt, its plumes
now lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from oversoaking
in sudsy water.
Mam chopped kaleidoscopes
of veg on its cream underbelly.
York ham and salad for Sunday tea,
sliced white bread, lavished
with salty Welsh butter.
The peacock slumps
against my ageing kitchen tiles
soon replaced by a new pine pig
reclining in the second drawer down
while I wait for the timer to ping.
Mam’s board will retire
to an attic trunk, alongside Dad’s
flat cap, my children’s
painted pebbles and love letters
from my first love.
-------------------------------------------------
Stanza 3&4 were
The peacock now slumps
against my ageing kitchen tiles
while I wait for the timer to ping,
when renovations will begin.
A new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down,
to enhance my culinary delights.
--------------------------------------------------
Eternal Peacock
Once vivid cobalt, it slumps
against my kitchen tiles,
plumes lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from paddling
overlong in sudsy water.
I draw back time's curtain
to peer into her cluttered kitchen
as she chops a kaleidoscope of vegetables
on the bird’s cream underbelly;
York ham and salad for Sunday tea
and sliced white bread, spread
with salty Welsh butter.
Since pneumonia stole her away,
her board rests
on my aging counter top
waiting for the timer to ping,
when renovations will begin.
A new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down, soon
to unite with me
in culinary delights.
Although feathers fade
their splendour remains.
(not at all sure about this ending)
Calon Lan, a Welsh hymn,
lyrics by Daniel James in 1890’s,
music by John Hughes
Eternal Peacock
you slump against my ageing
kitchen tiles, cobalt plumes
lacklustre and scarred,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
I await the timer's ping
when your retirement begins.
In your prime, Mam sang Calon Lan
as we prepared Sunday tea
chopping Dad’s garden veg
on your cream underbelly,
to pile into a salad bowl.
Ham rashers were sharpened with
the tang of Mam’s apple chutney,
warm bloomer slices
seasoned with salty butter.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Grandad’s flat cap,
a bucketful of their painted
pebbles and a feather
from my first love.
------------------------------------------
Edits
stanza 2 was:
In your prime Mam sang Calan Lan,
as we prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading
on your cream underbelly
filling the salad bowl with veg
that Dad had grown. Sandwiches,
rashers of ham, sharpened
with her apple chutney,
seasoned with salty butter
on oven-warm bloomer slices.
I have missed out the lines from Calon Lan as I felt it stopped the flow into the last stanza.
-----------------------------------------------------
Revision 4
Eternal Peacock
you slump against my ageing
kitchen tiles, cobalt plumes
now scratched and lacklustre,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
When the timer pings.
your retirement will begin.
In your prime, Mam’s salad bowl
was piled with lettuce, topped
with thinly chopped tomato,
and Dad’s home grown spring onions.
Ham rashers were enhanced
with the tang of Mam’s apple chutney
and completed with slices
of fresh bloomer and salty butter.
She sang Calan Lan as we
prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading,
on your cream underbelly.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Dad’s flat cap, a bucketful
of their painted pebbles
and a feathered brooch
from my first love.
--------------------------------------------------
Revision 3
Eternal Peacock
slumped against my ageing
kitchen tiles, your cobalt plumes
now scratched and lacklustre,
feet swollen from oversoaking.
You will be replaced
by a new pine pig: I wait
for the timer to ping.
A salad bowl piled with lettuce,
tomato, cucumber, thinly chopped,
topped with Dad’s spring onions.
Sliced Bloomer with salty butter
accompanied ham rashers
and Mam’s tangy chutney.
She sang Calan Lan as we
prepared our Sunday tea,
chopping, slicing, spreading,
on your cream underbelly.
My children will find you,
in an attic trunk, alongside
Dad’s flat cap, a bucketful
of their painted pebbles
and a feathered brooch
from my first love.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This revision was written before I read recent replies from Ken & Bob, but I thought I'd post it anyway.
Changes made - I've combined stanzas !&3 and addressed the poem to the bird.
Eternal Peacock (rev 2)
once vivid cobalt your plumes,
now lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from oversoaking,
slumped against my ageing
kitchen tiles, soon to be replaced.
The new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down
as I wait for the timer to ping.
Mam in floral pinny to cover
her Sunday best, chops veg
on your cream underbelly.
York ham and salad for Sunday
tea, sliced white bread, lavished
with salty Welsh butter.
My children will find you
in an attic trunk, alongside Dad’s
flat cap, a bucketful of their painted
pebbles and letters from my first love.
-------------------------------------------
Eternal Peacock (revision 1)
Once vivid cobalt, its plumes
now lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from oversoaking
in sudsy water.
Mam chopped kaleidoscopes
of veg on its cream underbelly.
York ham and salad for Sunday tea,
sliced white bread, lavished
with salty Welsh butter.
The peacock slumps
against my ageing kitchen tiles
soon replaced by a new pine pig
reclining in the second drawer down
while I wait for the timer to ping.
Mam’s board will retire
to an attic trunk, alongside Dad’s
flat cap, my children’s
painted pebbles and love letters
from my first love.
-------------------------------------------------
Stanza 3&4 were
The peacock now slumps
against my ageing kitchen tiles
while I wait for the timer to ping,
when renovations will begin.
A new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down,
to enhance my culinary delights.
--------------------------------------------------
Eternal Peacock
Once vivid cobalt, it slumps
against my kitchen tiles,
plumes lacklustre and scratched,
feet swollen from paddling
overlong in sudsy water.
I draw back time's curtain
to peer into her cluttered kitchen
as she chops a kaleidoscope of vegetables
on the bird’s cream underbelly;
York ham and salad for Sunday tea
and sliced white bread, spread
with salty Welsh butter.
Since pneumonia stole her away,
her board rests
on my aging counter top
waiting for the timer to ping,
when renovations will begin.
A new pine pig reclines
in the second drawer down, soon
to unite with me
in culinary delights.
Although feathers fade
their splendour remains.
(not at all sure about this ending)