This Poem was Submitted By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2010-07-09 14:52:12 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Bucket

A bucket by the garden patch is busy with some rain to catch It’s old and owns some splintered cracks beside it sits the farmer’s axe Path to the house is dry and healed and weeds have soiled the ditch and field If only it had one good tree it would have meant so much to me It’s sad when things wither and die and live with wrinkled wood or cry Bucket holes spill the drubbing rain Hopes to hold the drops pass in vain I can’t visit this doleful place again, it hurts my heart to see its face with the shadowed windows that glare I weep knowing it’s past repair

Copyright © July 2010 cheyenne smyth


This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2010-08-06 09:34:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Cheyenne, this is a very introspective piece, not necessarily of personal responsibility, but of loss and remembrance. It seems the farmer is gone; or maybe a metaphor for more. Certainly the bucket is a metaphor for the larger picture. Your “axe” sits as an indication of idleness, so much power in the tool, and the tool is left to wither with the bucket. Being a word weaver, I always look deeper than neglect and try and establish another theme or need. I notice the path is “healed” but weeds have soiled the fields. An interesting contrast. (I am thinking you meant “annealed” rather than “healed” but you might actually have considered the “path” to be worn in and as path worthy as a path can be). I can absolutely feel the loss of the writer, the “doleful place”, “hurts my heart”, “shadowed windows”. (“that glare” is an interesting concept in a dark piece, the glare might remind the person that the place remains, it might act as a beacon to deeds left undone, very nice image!). An image filled piece that definitely draws the reader to emote similar feelings.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2010-08-02 15:42:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Cheyenne, I like the soothing sing song rhythm. Although a few spots caught me... The thought of aging works well with the old aged home and it's bucket. It needs a bit of word adjustment/below, I think, but I enjoy this a lot. Bucket holes spill the drubbing rain Hopes to hold the drops pass in vain......This line plugged me up somehow? count is right? I can’t visit this doleful place again, it hurts my heart to see its face.....the 'again' messed up the count and rhythm. Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2010-07-20 15:56:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
whimiscal with its catchy rhymes! I tripped on some of the words as I grappled to 'see the place' but it does do the job! I can feel its lonely spaces and imagine that you once spent alot of time there. Since you did use punctuation, I would like to suggest adding a comma: beside it <,> sits the farmer’s axe Its a small thing, but would offer that moment to put the picture together in the mind. It has a finality that needs pause for reflection; right there, before the reader takes another step. Other than that, I would not change a thing! Nice work!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2010-07-14 20:17:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Cheyenne, Enjoyed this, though melancholy in theme. I felt the bucket as metaphor for what can no longer recapture what once was, but represents happier times. A bucket by the garden patch is busy with some rain to catch It’s old and owns some splintered cracks beside it sits the farmer’s axe Nicely rhymed and metered throughout. I felt as though the bucket could symbolize someone or something of value to the narrator, or perhaps even oneself. We age and realize mortality; though the bucket still retains purpose, within view is its means of disposal - and a cruel-seeming one at that. Path to the house is dry and healed and weeds have soiled the ditch and field If only it had one good tree it would have meant so much to me It seems as though the surroundings, the house, ditch and field can yield no further growth - the narrator hoped for "one good tree" which perhaps might have meant that things could continue on a bit longer. A strong hint of having served its purpose is L1's reference to the path to the house being "dry and healed" - that is, the tears are dried, the wounds are healing. That's what this line suggests to this reader, at any rate. It’s sad when things wither and die and live with wrinkled wood or cry Bucket holes spill the drubbing rain Hopes to hold the drops pass in vain When the body starts to fail, as inevitably it will, and mortality looms ahead with greater visibility, hope dwindles - or at least, the hope of continuance in the present form. I can’t visit this doleful place again, it hurts my heart to see its face with the shadowed windows that glare I weep knowing it’s past repair A mournful closing to the piece seems to reflect that the speaker has visited many times, or perhaps grown up or lived in this "doleful place" - and that it must be grieved for and left behind, but not without appreciation for what it has meant, and acceptance or surrender to the closing of this chapter of life. Beautifully handled, if heart-rending. How hard it is to accept the closing of certain chapters of life! Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2010-07-14 14:42:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
An excellent metaphore for life, yes life moves on, all ages and chances...are the reveries of gayer times or of sad poignant moments. Your meter and rhyme carry your reader through your lines with smooth percision while if spoken aloud the dance your words make upon being spoken linger in mind. Excellent work, no nits or spags. Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2010-07-10 21:53:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Excellent rhyme scheme Cheyenne, and more in depth thought provoking verse by verse. At first I imagined a nursery rhyme until I kept going; with seeing inside the theme, it amazed me how you put it together - and added the intense emotions with the last two verses. The ending makes the poem yours - yet weep no more, like the saying, be happy that it was - On my list for July, blessings, Deni
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