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Ben
Contributed by
cashfan1
on
Wednesday, 23rd June 2010 @ 05:34:54 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
His day began in the hour of pre-dawn dark.
Sweeping the cows in from the rich pasture
Into the sterile environs of the milking parlour.
And there he dodged the foul liquid dung
That ecsaped from the back end of the cows,
Was weary always
Of the vicious stamping hind hooves.
Then when the vast steel vat was full of white necture
He swept the cows back out on to the rich pasture.
Then with a cry of " come on Ben!"He followed his master.
And because his middle name was subservient,
He followed always three paces behind.
Then back to the yard
And the familiarity of northing, he ate a breakfast
Of last night's leftovers, steak and kidney, treacle tart,
All devoured from an old casserole tin
With an appetite seldom appeased.
Finished, he licked the tin clean and waited.
And at the same time every morning the cat emerged,
Black and dusty from the hay barn.
And he would fix Ben with a nonchalant stare from his one good eye,
Safe always in the knowledge
That the dog's world was restricted by a rusty chain
And limited dreams.
And he went through the motions anyway,
Barking untill hoarse, untill the farmer's wife, soft with good intentions,
Hushed him quiet again.
In the afternoon he slept fitfully.
The hot stink of dung mingled with something sweeter,
The smell of fresh mown hay on the breeze.
And between dreams of limited ambition
He watched the flies buzzing around the slurry pit,
Then moved into the cool shade of the kennel
When the sun fractured the sky with it's intensity.
Then he was shaken awake from dreams
By the calling of his name, "Ben! call out Ben!" and the rattle of his chain.
He went with his master then,
To the rich pasture where he swept the cows in
And when the last drops had flowed
Swept them back out again.
Then it was back to his life at the end of a chain,
Supper served, leftovers and a mutton bone
Tossed slowly from the hand of the farmer's wife.
"Good night Ben," she whispers softly and he retires to his kennel.
The bone for comfort, he sleeps a sleep restricted by a rusty chain and limited dreams.
Copyright ©
cashfan1
... [
2010-06-23 05:34:54]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Ben
(User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on
Wednesday, 23rd June 2010 @ 01:52:12 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| Restricted by a rusty chain and limited dreams,difficult question to answer but can't help feeling the sadness of the lack of freedom, but then maybe people have their own chains their own restrictions and their own limited dreams so is there a difference? one question leads to another! thought provoking write well written |
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Re: Ben
(User Rating: 1 )
by Debris on
Thursday, 24th June 2010 @ 03:21:32 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| I like the meloncholic tone of this one. Good work. |
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