of bugs, fluttering and blinking
in jars, and I lie half-awake,
but cannot keep from thinking
about four girls with double-braids,
all fit into one bunk,
told to go to sleep and “hushhh”
as visions through eyelids shrunk.
The peace I held to, soft and dear,
was poured, on summer nights,
over sleepy brows, their countenance
hinting at nothing but delight,
and over nights I once spent dreaming
up at sugar maples;
blurred shadows dancing on the wall
from our hand-puppet fables
faded and turned into sweet thoughts
of daytime make-believe;
the stars of childhood pretend,
God released into our dreams.
Floating orbs above the breeze,
as He shut down the days,
watered trees in our backyard
with hopeful light parades.
Rhyming poems are difficult to write and difficult to pull off without seeming cheesy. Since this is in common meter (iiambic tetrameter alternating with iambic trimeter), I had even more of a hard time trying to find the fitting words. I questioned whether I should drop the rhyme, but I decided that, since these poems are about my childhood, it was perfectly alright for them to have a childish feel.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is written in classic ballad meter and rhyme scheme. The inspiration comes from the silver maple tree in my backyard when I was child; it was filled with lightning bugs on summer nights. I remember looking up at those fireflies one night, thinking they looked like blinking Christmas lights or shimmering stars. I would give anything to revisit my childhood at that old house once more, watching the stars and fireflies as I fall asleep with my sisters.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
ReplyDelete