“Back then, people had gumption,” I was told,
Indomitable, undaunted by want
Hardy folk, up at dawn, in freezing cold,
To break the ice on the cattle trough.
Everything four-legged had to be fed,
Wood chopped, the stove lit, eggs gathered
Work’s litany, “While you’re still in bed!”
A little kid, I listened while they blathered
About the horrors of the old days, say
how very fortunate we little ones were,
“But you know, we were happy in those days,
though we were poor.” “…because we were poor!”
After a good dinner, bourbon and a few smokes
The log house of childhood looked good to the folks.
And here is a wonderful treasure brought to you by a bored guy posting to the internet
The Four Yorkshiremen
This is a Shakespearean sonnet, more or less. 14 lines, ababcdcdefefgg. Iambic pentameter (10 syllable lines with the stress on every other syllable, but I’m not a fetishist about that). The final six lines are supposed to set up a situation established by or counter to the first 8 lines. I’m not big on rules, though, other than the rhyme and syllable thing. I’m writing sonnets as a mental challenge, mostly, but once in a while one might be good. I started writing sonnets when I realized I just don’t have much more to say in one of my customary blog posts at the moment.