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A Poem by OCeallaigh

Author: OCeallaigh
Created: February 20, 2012 at 01:43 pm
Upload Type: Poem, G (All)  
Category: Nature | General/Other | General/Other
Upload Stats: 4.5 Stars by 2 users with 2 comments and 378 views

Beside a mountain river  

The much cherished memories of earlier times
Enough inspiration for an old poet’s rhymes
Far less troubling than the days we now know
Those that were long ago and so far away
Our encampment beside a mountain river
Brothers, sisters, cousins and good friends
Gathered around this camp’s first night’s fire
Smiling faces bathed in a warm golden light
Cold ale, smooth moonshine and good smoke
And flowing swiftly over and around rocks
The river’s sweet music keeping spirits aloft
Night’s insect fliers fluttering within our camp’s glow
Some floating dead drunk, deep in our cups
Carefully fished out, or else washed down without care
Many years ago upon that moonlit spring night
Offering our pipe first, to the four winds
Then passed several good times, merrily around
A wonderful evening in the high, wild and free
Many long miles from the same old ground
Mirthful howls escaping our smiling lips
Answered in good time by a katydid’s song
Mid-spring in the Appalachian Mountains
Humankind reverting to a more natural state
Scant care about who and what is early or late
Little concern for the measuring of time
Always relying upon these dark wooded hills
As we do each new spring morning awakening
Peering out of the tent at this verdant green
Mist shrouded vistas surrounding our camp
Aroma of coffee brewing, she awoke before me
Her beautiful face showing so little pain
Of last night and our long wild reveling
A good day for fishing, no chance of rain
Bacon, eggs, fried taters and biscuits baked in a pan
Coffee brewing, she called me back into our tent
While the others still lay in their sodden slumber
A pleasurable poke, coffee and a little weed
Before waking the others for their breakfast
With red eyes, they rise like the living dead
Too much moonshine down their endless gullets
Too much good camp smoke for their heads
Youthful recovery and a new day’s promise
Any fashionable trends or television network news
Have little significance here in these ancient mountains
It all seemed unimportant and so very far away
Watching this morning’s campfire flames dance and leap
An untroubled time when good grass was cheap
And true love was a young fool’s fleeting fancy
Making ready our rods and checking our reels
A good stretch of river and an angler’s zeal
The other women went foraging for morels and ramps
But she saw fit to fish by my side
Landing six large trout to my small two
But I knew her as the sweet sharing kind
She even helped me untangle my line
For I was casting too close near the trees
Second night’s fire, supper, drink and good cheer
Cups and mugs clash, in our quaffing and pouring
Over dark ridge tops our spirits are soaring
By the campfire our slurred stories are told

© OCeallaigh - all rights reserved

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Comments & Reviews

February 20, 2012
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Outdid yourself. I could hear the river and smell the campfire. Not often you can get into the poets mind while reading.

Thanks, but my feelings were I added too much in the stew, however being a firm believer of healing through writing, this proved soothing to the soul on a gloomy day. Now I am coming to an understanding why some old folk ramble on in recounting times passed.

The human experience and being able to fondly remember

 OCeallaigh replied on February 20, 2012

February 20, 2012
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Very nice story
I liked how you put the four winds and smoking of the pipe offering to the four winds..........I really loved that part being Native American I really liked that part and also the oneness with Mother Earth .........I liked alot keep writing......keep them stories coming

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