Intriguing Creations Poem by Ernestine Northover
Intriguing Creations
Canvas sails of the windmill, secured to their whips,
Circle around on slow orbital trips.
No hurrying to speed the day’s hours away,
The winds hold them captive, they have to obey.
The blades catch the currents that travel along,
Turning continuously, powerful and strong.
Moving the mechanism of sprockets rotating,
Crushing the corn and then flour creating.
What a joy when you see one, they stand proud and tall.
A relic of times when the miller would haul
Jute sacks full of wheat, which he would then kibble,
In that dusty old place, where the mice came to nibble.
The Smock Mill, the Post Mill and the Tower Mill well knew,
The procedure of grinding the grain fine and true.
But these intriguing creations are now hard to find,
As the old time traditions are now left far behind.
Are there any still left in England which are still in opperation Ernestine Would be wonderful to see Such mighty giants, capable of such humble work What a thought Love duncan X
How lovely! beautifully written..i remember my childhood in our place..this is a beautiful piece, Ern..i love it love, Meggie
An evocative, keenly observed piece about one of man's most romantic inventions. A charming easy to read poem written with flair and warmth. love, Allie xxxx
'Now, ' Henny Penny said, 'If I can just get someone to help me bake this bread! ' What an absolutely charming poem...down, even, to the tiny mice, nibbling, nibbling away at the wonderland of corn. They must think they have died and gone to heaven! I loved this poem...and thought I even felt that gentle breeze moving those canvas sails round and round. Wonderfully written.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 9:45:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A beautiful and romantic picture of old England. Wonderful. Love, Andrew x