I can hear an Australian voice in every line, Max, 's fine.
On 6 July 2010 23:17, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> The Corn Crib
>
> ŚMaizeą our auntie Bess called it then
> Śsweet corną in todayąs shops
> the stalks grew tall, cobs turned gold.
>
> Harvested, they nearly filled the high
> wire-netting cage on tree-stump stilts, safe from
> birdsą beaks above, ratsą teeth below.
>
> Climb up, dears, see the metal handle?
> Take a cob, insert it in the metal mouth,
> press down, the metal teeth engage.
>
> The handle turns, the cob twists down,
> Golden morsels fly out, heavy rain
> filling the chipped enamel basin.
>
> Off with it now to the chook-yard.
> Donąt they love it! Clucking
> and pecking, the chooks would turn
>
> maize into eggs with golden yolks,
> except the one noisy bossy rooster -
> what use was he? Uncle Will wouldnąt say.
>
> Auntie taught us all manner of work,
> in charge of house, garden, the car, us
> step out of line, weąd be sent home quick smart.
>
> Big sister was stronger and faster
> if I worked longer Iąd match her work.
> All summer we toiled in the corn crib.
>
>
> Max Richards
>
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> ------ End of Forwarded Message
>
--
(David) "Dave no more" Joseph Bircumshaw
"Every old house was scaffolding once/And workmen whistling"
Website and A Chide's Alphabet
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