Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Dirty Thirties, a Ballad

My grandmother and her three sisters were probably the age I am now on the day I remember. They were sitting around my Aunt Susie's round oak table talking about the Depression and what they called "the dirty thirties" in the Dakotas. 

The challenge of my poetry group for September first was to write a poem in the form of a ballad, and so I wrote about that memory. The judging is finished and I have learned that my ballad took second place. Here it is:

I was born at the end of it
but I’ve been told the tales,
of ruthless sun, of need for rain,
of cattle deaths and crops that failed.

My Grandma and her sisters wept
recalling want and pain
of others, but the four of them
still refused to complain.

“O sister, how them cows did bawl!”
They tried to meet their needs
but cows can’t live on seedless straw
or prickly thistle weeds.

And when the day grew dark as night
they hoped, they prayed, come rain!
But clouds of dust were blocking light.
Their hopes seemed all in vain.

They stuffed old rags in all the cracks
and still the dust prevailed.
Dirt and grit were everywhere.
Their greatest efforts failed.

Day after day relentless wind
howled over open plains
until a few hard-working men
lost heart and went insane.

When the wind died down, locusts swarmed
devouring all things green.
First the dust, then the locust plague
with no reprieve between.

Nineteen hundred and forty one
hard times came to an end.
How blessed were those whose faith held fast
and rain brought hope again!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Other stuff

I've decided to keep this blog mostly for my poetry, especially the contests.  I recently entered twelve poems in various contest, and will let you know how they fared in the competition.  Update:  I pretty well bombed out of the contests; I received one second honorable mention.  I am suitably humbled.

I've also published older poetry on another blog, http://www.gr8teful.wordpress.com/  You are invited to check me out there for a wider variety of writing--essays, photo-prompts and even a whole novel, although I can't figure out quite how to make it possible to begin reading at the first chapter. Pretty sad, I know.  Maybe one of my readers who is more skilled at blogging can help me out?

 I have published there an essay I wrote:  In Defense of Doubting Thomas.