A gate. A row of close-cropped box,
the noisome tree, but prosperous
on bare and airy slopes like this
where winds carouse. I, like the fox

obscene, keen antiquarian
and scholar, I go creeping round,
uneasy on the hallowed ground,
to find my ancestors again.

So up and down the avenues
of sleek and shining stones I go,
each one a hundredweight or so
of sweet inadequate adieus.

Not too far down my father lies,
within a little wooden box,
deeper than dreams, deafer than rocks,
beyond the reach of lullabies

and valedictions, brave or sad.
For this is common sense. Although
I don't demur, before I go
I'll bid fair peace be his. Bye dad.

Hi David,

Call me a sentimental fool but I had a distinct lump in my throat at the end of this.

I think the constraints of the rhyme scheme intrude a little in places.  The discussion of box in S1 seems a little arbitrary, and then the flip to "like the fox" is obviously just to rhyme, so that jars a little...

Also the idea of an antiquarian seeking his ancestors, is that out of sympathy with a man visiting his father?  e.g. it's not seeking if you know he's there and while a parent is an ancestor, there's more commonly an implication of folk form longer ago...

"sweet inadequate adieus" I like, and then the poem really seems to get to the meaty part for the last two S's.  And a sad ending, which I appreciate.

HTH

Ian

Ian, I would never call you a fool, sentimental or otherwise. I'm very pleased it got you like that.

Ah, now, the box is there, and it is a noisome tree. The fox, I agree, is a handy rhyme, but it's Pope (although not a rhyme there):

The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires.

I can't look that gift-horse in the mouth, can I?

Cheers

David

enjoyed those final 2 stanzas, David.

thanks,

tiko

Just the final 2, eh, Tiko? Ah well. Thanks for letting me know.

Cheers

David

David, for me your opening till "scholar" full of pleasure, then weakens some till

deeper than dreams, deafer than rocks,
beyond the reach of lullabies

and valedictions, brave or sad.
For this is common sense. Although
I don't demur,

then weakens some again. Tom
 

not at all, enjoyed the entire poem,
but the final two stanzas are my
favorite part. 

thanks,

tiko

For me, the beginning of this poem is so well-written that I didn't notice it rhymed until the third stanza!  And I'm allergic to end rhymes!  ;)  Kudos for your musical sense.  I got taken out of my reverie at "go" and "so."

I'm having trouble with "lullabies," because why would a grown man (a father) need lullabies?  The father gave the lullabies in life rather than received them.

I really don't like "Bye dad."  Such an abrupt two syllable ending after a lovely, flowing, outdoors-in-the-wind, walking-through-a-cemetery experience.  I was right there with you in your world until I read those two words.  So, having said that, you could make a strong argument that they're appropriate for an ending - both for a life and for a poem.  You'd win that argument, but I still don't like to be jarred out of a poem.  I like to exit on my own time.

Favorite lines:  "A gate.  A row of close-cropped box"  and "a hundredweight or so
of sweet inadequate adieus."  I like the first two stanzas best.

Great rhythm.

Thanks for a good read this morning!

Thanks, Tom. Good pointers.

And thanks, Carol. Sorry for giving you the bum's rush at the end there.

Cheers

David

I was just out of humor because I had to come back to real life.

I'd have a tough time deciding if my favorite stanzas were the opening few or the closing few.  And lullabies works exceptionally well for me because, I suppose, when my mom was so very ill and we ran out of conversation, there were lullabies we hummed or sang so she would know we were near.  I, too, found end words abrupt, but personal; someway or another it's a bit of a leap for me, the use of 'dad' combined with the scholar and antiquarian of early lines.  Nonetheless -- great write, imho.

ld 

Thank you very much, Lynn.

Cheers

David