Cross my Heart

Day 13: "read Walter de la Mare’s poem “A Song of Enchantment” then, John Berryman’s poem “Footing Our Cabin’s Lawn, Before the Wood.” Both poems work very differently, yet leave you with a sense of the near-fantastical possibilities of the landscapes they describe. Try your hand today at writing a poem about a remembered, cherished landscape. It could be your grandmother’s backyard, your schoolyard basketball court, or a tiny strip of woods near the railroad tracks. At some point in the poem, include language or phrasing that would be unusual in normal, spoken speech – like a rhyme, or syntax that feels old-fashioned or high-toned."

My memory is of one afternoon on the working farm we used to visit in the holidays, owned by Ma and Pop, our proxy grandparents. We would have been visiting them from birth until we were pre-teens, and were not allowed to wander far afield, our play restricted to the farm and its gardens. I've used a regular rhyme scheme like Walter de la Mare’s poem.  

Cross my Heart

Down in Devon, down on the farm

We kept to the courtyard, safe from harm,

Afternoons stretched out deep and wide

As we played together, side by side.

One day my sister, braver, bolder

Who took the lead, as she was older,

Devised a game, led me astray

Into the barn to climb the hay.

Up we went to the hay bale summit

Thrilled by the sickening thought we'd plummet

To our doom on the hard barn floor

To writhe and die in a mess of gore.

Just as the bales began their swaying

I heard my sister softly saying

She'd found a nest of tiny kittens 

There in the dark where the cat had hidden.

We somehow knew, no need for words

To keep them secret. If they were heard

They'd not be safe from adult hands

For reasons we'd not understand.

Taking turns to watch them play

Perched high up in fragrant hay,

We vowed 'cross my heart and hope to die'

Before we bid them a last goodbye. 

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