Prairie Days

PRAIRIE  DAYS  POETRY

 A compilation of Poetry written in my teen years, ages 15 and 16,
while growing up on a farm on The Prairies,
West of Rockglen, Saskatchewan, Canada.

 

WHEN  I  AM  DEAD  AND  GONE  FRIEND

When I am dead and gone friend
And you are here and fine
Will you love those things friend
That I cherished dearly as mine

And will you love the breeze friend
And will you love the flowers
The ones that I am loving now
And dream of at all hours

And when I have left this life friend
And can no longer see
Those things that I loved friend
Will you love them for me

Elaine Sell
     1954, Age 15     

                                                           
               –                  

WHEN I AM DEAD AND GONE FRIEND

 Is included in a classic heirloom-quality coffee-table hardbound collection of  selected poems by different writers.

“Natures Echoes”
 (Library of Congress ISBN-1-58235-564-9)
 2001 Publication 

–       
 

SKIING

The shimmering white
The blinding light
Of the snow I rush upon
Touching slightly
Ever so lightly
Skiing on and on…….

 Elaine Sell
1954  

 –

PRAIRIE  DAYS — IT’S  RAINING!

It’s damp, it’s dismal, it’s gray as dawn
And the sun is hid and the sky is drawn
When it’s raining.

The sky is a dark, drab, cold, colorless gray
And the east wind blows on this August day
For it’s raining.

The half stooked bundles lay heavy and wet
On the prairies.
  The  rust is bad and the farmer does fret
When it is raining.

The bold, grassy prairie looks cold and bare
Under the dark clouds suspended up there
Full of rain.

You stay inside, everyone does.
It’s not fit out for man or beast.
All you can do is take it
When it’s raining.

Elaine Sell
 August 1954, Age 15

THAT’S  SOLITUDE,  OR  IS  IT ?

You feel so calm, so serious, peaceful and lone
You feel like a fisherman away from home
Without any reward for a day’s well done
Of fishing, of praying beneath the great hot sun.
That’s solitude, or is it?

You’re not alone in this place of greatness
Where the diamond willows hover o’er you
So peaceful, so great, under the bluest sky
You’ve an unseen guest, who is standing by
Watching, waiting – but why just why?

Elaine Sell
August 19, 1954, Age 15

HANG  ON !

When the tide is rough and the wind is wild
Hang on!   Hang on!
When the clouds are black and the foam is riled
Hang on!  Hang on!

What if your boat is filling fast
And this gasp of air may be your last
Hang on!  Hang on!

What if  your  meager hopes have passed
With that last sepulchral thunder blast
Hang on!  Hang on!
It’s rough, it’s tough, the water’s deep
And you long to get a moment’s sleep
But hang on!  Hang on!

Though it seems this storm will ever stay
There’s a dawn ahead, not far away
Hang on!  Hang on!

You’ve life, there’s hope, don’t dive and drown
Look! The sun’s rays come shining down
So hang on!  Hang on!

Elaine Sell
 March 15,1955, Age 16

THEY’RE  ALIVE  AND  LOVELY  TO  ME

The quiet beauty of the autumn days
The babbling brooks that run in the spring
The whispering of an evening breeze
Is not an uncommon thing,
But to some these things are unnoticed yet
And to some they never will be
And though some are just discovering them
They’re alive and lovely to me.

Elaine Sell
April 1955, Age 16

THIS  EVE

This eve as the goddess of dusk was drawing her cloak o’er us
And the stars were beginning to sprinkle that dark ol’ sky
Two fleet-footed dear bounded lightly o’er the pasture fence
Their silhouettes like pitch against that purple immense
Their necks arched so proudly, their heads held so high
That it made me wonder and ask from where
Did they come upon such a placid air
When for years they’ve been hunted, shot and eaten with greed
By those who consider their slaughter a noble deed.
If only man could be like they; live for today and not tomorrow
If we could laugh in the face of hate, pride, greed and omit all sorrow
We’d then be like those deer with their free way of living
Free from the bondage we, to ourselves, are giving.

Elaine Sell
 April 23, 1955, Age 16

 

 

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