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Glennoch Fell
by Wayne Thomas (Age: 58)
copyright 06-27-2004


Age Rating: 13 to 127

 
Years have passed and vanished like fog since
we tramped alone through the gray mists of
Glennoch Fell. Miles we wandered then, two of us,

up and down the gentle hills of heather and
bracken, over moor and marsh and fen, hand
joined tightly to hand because it's just

too easy to get separated and lost in this land of
everlasting mist. What a wonder I'm still here
to write this, and you to read it,

what with every day remembering all the hell and heartache
this frightful place wrung us through across the years.
Recall the twisty, stunted apple trees (russets,

weren't they?) bent nearly double from the
day-long wind, and standing on my shoulders
you could just pluck the fruit from the very top

branch. I doubt we should try that nowadays!
Freshmade bannock cakes, scalding tea, and a few of
those hard little apples, what a feast they were,

too many hard times ago. But ah, such times they
sometimes were,and such wondrous children we, and on
those few days of barely sunshine, we ran barefoot

through the oat grass and sang as long and loud as
voice would reach--and you were always better!
But old times turn to new times, and they in turn go

gray. I married one, you another, and we left drear
Glennoch Fell. Children came, grew, and left,
and seldom knew the joys we shared so very long ago.

And our lives passed, wrapped in toil, cloaked in
troubles, sprinkled with odd moments of gladness forever.
And our mournings came, laying to rest those

who'd shared our lives and grayings. Who'd have thought,
dear handholder of my childhood, that bent and gray,
we'd finally share a hearth, one trove

of memories behind us, another before? But who
better than you, dear handholder of my childhood, to
share each moment gone, each moment left,

holding hands along the road
as we return at last to Glennoch Fell?


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Comments on this Article/Poem:
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04-15-2006 Daniel R Patton    

"But ah, such times they sometimes were," NOW! that's a line, my favorite of the poem, I do have to agree with David, I've seen this style but a few times, then again I'm mostly a rhyme guy, none the less this definitely had a hooking kinda flow. I ADORE IT.


03-21-2005 David Pekrul    

What a great, picture of childhood. This is like a painting with words. I don't understand the paragraph breaks, but what the hey, it's still a great poem.

David Pekrul


07-04-2004 Mary -BrytEyz- Ball    

Scottland has many treasures, and memories a many. I've always pictured a lone humble home lost in the rolling hills, misty fog consuming the certainty of poverty, and hand piled stone walls sectioning off my own little peice of it all. And romance? That's just a part of Glennoch, no? Thank you for sharing this original peice of art, with words as your unique brushstrokes of memory.


04-15-2004 Stefanie Mendoza    

Wayne,
The spacing between each section is very bizarre, but for some reason it just really works... I got a tiny bit confused with the apple tree parethesis part for soem reason though.... (my mind is malfunctioning!!) I love the over all feeling and reflection in this poem! Just a really great write! Bravo!

~Steffie~

btw-.................. *first comment dance!!!* wootwoot!!!! lol!


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