Poetry Prompt #34

1 Comment

Poetry Prompt #34

Happy Monday! This week’s prompt is ancient ruins. I’ll be really interested to see what you come up with. I can never predict how much response there will be to the various prompts I’ve been posting each week this year.

Front runners so far would be the pickle and buccaneer prompts. They clearly stimulated the imagination. Thanks to everyone who’s been so enthusiastically submitting poems to the site. I love reading your submissions. Send your poems to me at traffa-m@bigpond.net.au as a Word or text document attachment and add a line or two about your writing process.

Happy writing!





One thought on “Poetry Prompt #34

  1. In response to Ancient Ruins


    Only a chimney is all that’s left of a pioneer’s hand-built home A chimney crumbling midst weeds and stones Starkly standing there all alone. The top part has fallen, the rest on a lean apparently ready to fall Some rotted spikes where the mantle-piece was Just the chimney survived, that’s all.

    I picture the days, a century back when the pioneers started to build Collecting the stones, and placing them there while the dirt floor with lime-ash was filled The garden they’d started with seeds that they’d brought and the yards and the stable they’d made And the fences of “brush” that they had built up from the swing of the axe-man’s blade.

    The house had started as just one room which they’d gradually built around But the iron roof had been all brand new for no second-hand iron could be found. For there were no shops for about fifty miles on a rough winding bullock track And a trip to town would have taken a week to get them to there and back.

    The chimney survived, a tenuous life when the pioneer farmers moved on They had taken the roof iron to start anew and had left the district and gone. And without a doubt they had started again in an area further out When the crops had failed, they’d put it down to the elements, or a drought.

    They had not known about “super” then or the benefits it could have brought They only knew that the land went “dead” and they’d taken all they could extort. With crops in each year, and no putting back the goodness had soon been consumed Now the chimney was all that could show where they’d been as their search for a living resumed.

    Only a chimney, still standing there just a home for a starling’s nest And few would care for it’s history past or the way it has conquered life’s test. It has outlasted storms of rain, wind and heat and still it is standing there It has stories to tell of those pioneer years but nobody seems to care.

    A chimney to take the smoke away when the pioneers cooked their meal And the heat it emitted on a winter’s night gave a nice warm cosy feel They ate by the light of the fire it held to save on their candle and lamp And the fire dried them off when they had come in from their work in the paddock, all damp.

    But it’s life is near over, the interest has gone the costs of preserving, too high There are many old buildings and houses galore where this story could also apply. And each has it’s story, a tale it could tell but we do not heed any more Just one more old tumbling down forgotten chimney just one chimney, but who’s keeping score?

    Jeff Cook, Minlaton 5575. Jeffcookpoet@bigpond.com Ph 0407839994

    Jeff Cook 93 Maitland Rd, Minlaton 5575. Ph 08 88532237 Jeffcookpoet@bigpond.com


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