Fishermen, Farmers and Lumberjacks,
With sweat on their brows and ache'n backs,
Fished, sowed soil and chopped down trees.
T'was the only way, in those days...
....to feed big familes.
Part 2
A jewel in the crown of this River Queen
Is Emerald Village! My, Gretna Green.
Here at Nellie's Brook, nestled away,
Was the One Room School House...
...of my Yester Days.
The school bell rang, piercing the air.
Warning the tardy..'No time to spare! '
Past hen coops and cows, run'n like hares.
Fear'n they'd miss...
...Morning Class Prayers.
Girls in hair ribbons. The lads, woolen hats.
In desks with ink wells, in 8 rows, they sat.
The wee Aughts enjoyed a window with a view.
Their Day-Dreaming suffered...
...when UP'd to Row 2.
At 9 o'clock, the old pump was primed.
To fill a water bucket for Recess Time.
Slurping from the dipper, each tak'n a turn.
'Share with each other! '...
...was the Lesson learned.
Sprouting from homes, some nuturing 15.
Each morn at the basin, scrub'n hands clean.
Dumped the slop-bucket on the way to school.
In home-sewn Hand-Me-Downs...
...with bellies full of gruel.
Pale as ten GHOSTS, they ran all aghast
Into the school yard - faster than FAST.
For chug'n down the road, for all to see,
Was a new Horseless Carriage...
...Ford called a 'Model T'.
Medville T. Driscoll, a lad, barely ten,
Arrived at school, by Horse & Wagon.
For years he helped his Ma run the farm.
She now thought..'A little school'n...
...would do him no harm.'
A fence post tall and had a Miramichi slur.
Under a tumble of red hair, came...'Morn'n, Sir! '
He soon settled down to learn the Three R's.
Fast asleep on his slate board...
...His mind? On Mars!
I'm eager to tell you 'bout the time
Medville set fire to his fishing line.
The hour is late! So, you'll have to wait.
Who's call'n me now? Oh, good...
...it's m'supper plate!
Deanna why don't you write a compleat poem story on these exployets They are just so enjoyable to read. cheers Sylvie
Hope you enjoyed your supper, Deanna, and we wait for more of the same. Very enjoyable. Going to school by horse and wagon - ahh - those were the days, I remember them well NOT but wished I did. Love, Fran xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
DEANNA...FOOLISH(EYE) ...mystic continued right before my eyes...I THINK WE MIGHT HAVE A POTENTIAL '' EPIC '' IN PROGRESS HERE...GREAT WRITE, DEANNA! '''''''''''''''''''''''''''~F. J. R.~'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''