Memory Poem, My Favorite Uncle Howard - Weekend Challenge
Memories;
of Places and Persons
Memories can fail one
Memories can remind
Memories bring pleasure
Memories do not lie
Memories of a man
Man in the spring cornfield
He and this boy walked corn
Hoes in hands they ambled
Cocklebur or milkweed
Beware green invaders
Our hoes will chop you down
Get their roots man would say
While walking the man would
Yodel and sing a song
One the boy wouldn't know
He'd stand amazed. Radio?
Yes Country and Western
Their singers' voices loud
Man in corn, high pitch voice
Boy tried to imitate
Memories of the man
Cornfield again, ripened
Leaves and stalks turned to brown
Shucking corn, harvest's good
Now walking rows again
Snapping each ear of corn
Away from its brown stalk
Tossing in the wagon
Two horses pulling slowly
Down those rows, knew their way
Stopping on command, wait
For man, boy, to catch up
Man was Uncle Howard
Most people didn't know
How well he could yodel
For sure to pre teen boy
Memory's last setting
Hospital room, last days
He prayed for every nurse
Boy now man, last visit
Memories last until
We remember no more
Uncles yodeling still
In Heaven's gold cornfields _ _ _ _
- This one is true.
- Photo and Poem Copyright © 2010 and 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with Kim Russell , at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Weekend Mini Challenge: People and Places, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/05/weekend-mini-challenge-people-and.html
Kim's in part instructions: "Today’s challenge is to write about a place through a person or a person through a place." After I finished I notice the word, "Mini". My poem sure isn't very mini.
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Excerpt from my previous blog:
"Uncle Howard was Dad's youngest brother, two years younger than Dad. I felt that I was his favorite nephew; he called me "Jimmy." My best remembrance of him is that he could yodel. He is the only person I know or have known who could yodel. He yodeled good, very good. He would only yodel when nobody was around, except me.
Uncle Howard's favorite song was Cattle Call:
"The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun'
Til his days work is done,
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
[Yodels]
Singing his cattle call"
I still like to sing that song when nobody is around too. And I try to yodel. Uncle Howard never sang in public either. Not even in church. ... (More ... )"
Labels: Family, Jim Does, Poem, Syllabic Form
7 Comments:
Yodeling is such a cool talent!
What a great tribute to Uncle Howard, Jim. It sounds like he had a big influence on you. I'd never heard of cocklebur or milkweed, so I looked them up and now I know that they are poisonous to livestock, which explains the third stanza. The only yodeller I ever heard was Frank Ifield, who I rather liked when I was a little girl!
This special!
Luv your placement of memories. Sure he's yodelling in Heaven too
Much love...
Perfect, love this snapshot, Jim.
I have a sense that your uncle is still alive in a way.. all those places and the scents combined with the yodel... I think he is still inside you, you should learn to yodel
so vivid images you gave...feeling nostalgic somehow...!
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