B is for Boskydell
Ode to Rose (Shy) of Boskydell
Farmer, preacher, poet shorn
Take your place in fields of corn--
I see you now as you were then,
Over-alled lady with a ballpoint pen
Your name was Rose and aptly so
My conscience was pricked; God's Spirit said "Go!"--
Your tractor broke down on planting day--
I offered to help and you said okay
We walked the fields with seeds in hand--
Those beans did grow and fill the land--
I hear you now as I heard you then,
Over-alled lady with a poet's yen
"Write!" you said "and write some more"
"Don't wait too long or they'll close the door"
But I'm only 15--there's plenty of time
To write some prose and make some rhyme
Thirty-five years have come and gone--
Learning was piecemeal; degree's now done
But what do I know? What I learned from you then,
Over-alled lady with a smile and a pen:
Valleys are carved from trickling streams,
From torrents, from downpours that level our dreams--
And carve them deep into dells so dark
The pen lies still, the outlook stark--
The words you write will mean the most
If they come from bosky--not fields, no boast--
Bosky? Yes. A place, not describing, a Green-Knight glen,
A "bliss by turns with blunder" sojourn with pen--
Stay not here and stay not there,
Your head's not yours when your lot's too fair--
Put the bosky in the dell, shady, carved-out fen
Beside a hill of roses--over-alled lady shares her pen.
See A to Z Blogging Challenge for links to more "B's" from Challenge sponsors and other writers.
