Tuesday, July 30, 2013

THE PASTURE REVISITED (Written in the style of Robert Frost)

Robert Frost placed "The Pasture" as the first poem in his book "The Complete Poems of Robert Frost". Frost has always been one of my favorite poets and this little poem is to me a "poem of invitation." (Maybe that is why he put it at the beginning . . . )

Several years ago (2006) I saw a reference to a "Robert Frost Poetry Contest" in which folks were invited to write a poem "in the style of Robert Frost" and enter it in the contest. I wrote "The Pasture Revisited."  After writing it . . . I had the horrible feeling that I had violated Frost's poetry and almost didn't send it in. I called one of my grandsons (Sam) and told him of my dilemma and he asked that I read it to him. I did. Sam's response was: "Grammpa, Robert Frost would be proud of that poem."

So, I sent it in and guess what !  It didn't win 1st, 2nd, or 3rd prize. But . . . the poem was selected as "one of 50 poems"  (out of thousands of entries) for "honorable mention."  That was simply amazing for me.

It is this poem that I would like to share with you. . . .

                      (the original Frost poem)

           The Pasture

           I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
           I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
           (And wait to watch the water clear, I may)
           I shan't be gone long. - You come too.

           I'm going out to fetch the little calf
           That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
           It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
           I shan't be gone long. - You come too.
                                                                             -Robert Frost

           The Pasture Revisited
               (written in the style of Robert Frost)

            I'm going out to grieve the pasture spring;
            I'll only stop to weep where water used to be
            (And watch ethanol corn grow, I may)
            I shan't be gone long. - You come too.

            I'm going out to see the feed lot calves;
            So hormone-filled, abandoned in dung,
            They totter, grow too fast. Each one.
            They shan't be around long. - You come too.
                                                                                     -Clem Nagel



         

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