IN WILLY'S HOUSE--Poetry Thursday

In a dim sparkle of light
hoarfrost in patches
hangs beadlike from cobwebs
in wet berry bushes.
The star
just left of the gate post
goes out, and a magpie
flits down the meadow.

Willy hears biscuits
rise and go in the oven,
hears sugar and nutmeg
shower into the Lumpy Dick
and purple chokecherry jam
come out for bread'n'with it.

The rasp of ashes
scraping coal bucket
makes goosebumps on his skin
as he lifts a chunk with the scuttle.

In Willy's house
there is (sometimes) a harvest
of sweet soup,
prunes, raisins, currents
boiled and spread in thick dark masses
on pancakes, with cream.
soggum candy boiled to cracking,
a harvest (sometimes) of pine nuts.
Always dried rounds of pumpkin,
potatoes, parsnips in the cellar,
long strips of salted beef
hung on the clothesline
like longjohns to dry.

After dark,
when the oil lamp burns low,
and smoke clouds the hot glass chimney,
Pa brings out the fiddle
and he plays
Hey the merry
Aye the merry
Hey the happy Mormon!
And Ma reads pages from
the Tales of A Thousand and One Nights:
Ali Baba, Sinbad the Sailor, and
Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp.

O bless me, Father,
bless me,
bless this house,
bless Pa,
bless Ma,
bless this food
that nourishes our bodies,
bless these pages and this music,
in Jesus Name,
Amen.

A tallow candle
lights his way to bed,
and Willy climbs into the flannel softness
of his nightshirt,
and in the dark
(the candle blown)
he sleeps.


(From: In Willy's House). Keeping to a theme, from the previous post!