Monday, April 7, 2014

NaPoWriMo Day 7




Draft 2 - My grandfather

After edits (shown below)

my grandfather was a carpenter
artisan of chisel and lathe
surrounded by wood shavings
he hummed to an invisible tune

in older age he sang
melodies from his homeland
a trembling range of one octave
each note evocative

but poetry was his true love
memorised from youth
voice modulated
to draw emotion from every word
until his breathing slowed
then stopped

yet I hear his voice
in the scent of forests
the soft burr of song
and the rhythm of words
carried on the breeze


my grandfather was a carpenter
an artisan of chisel and lathe plane
toiling knee deep surrounded by wood shavings
he hummeding to an invisible tune

in older age he sang
melodies from his homeland
a trembling range of one octave
each note evocative

his true love was but poetry was his true love
memorised from youth
voice modulated
to ring draw emotion from every word
until his breathing slowed
then stopped

his voice is still heard
yet I hear his voice
in the scent of forests
the soft burr of song
and the rhythm of words

carried on the breeze

2 comments:

  1. I read this yesterday in first draft form. I was touched by the sentiment and captured by the images brought to mind as I read. When I got to the end, I thought to myself what a brave soul you are. I admire your honesty in presenting it as a WIP. I hope your readers appreciate your courage in doing that. Thank you for visiting my blog and leading me back here. I will be back again, I love your writing. Peace. ~ Michael

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