Has the art of oral conversation perished in the past ?
Cornelius White and Alfonsus Brown lived in the country not the town neighbouring farmers who rarely spoke each hoped he'd get rich, t'other go broke
When autumn time came round again Cornelius was anxious to harvest his grain acres and acres of golden ripe fields ready to give forth, bountiful yields
So when he climbed upon the seat of his big yellow combine to cut the wheat he turned the key but the engine was dead and Cornelius' heart grew heavy like lead
The old farmer cursed his woeful luck knowing that rain could run amok damped and spoil his splendid crop because those mighty blades could not chop
Then a thought entered his brain though it was tethered with some refrain I'll ask Alfonsus for a lend of his combine then set off to his house with a bottle of wine
But on the way Cornelius began to think would his rival kick up an odious stink gleefully laugh at his desperate plight and the more he thought, the more he wanted to fight
So when he arrived at his neighbour's door Cornelius could stand the strain no more "I don't want your dam combine," he began to shout While Alfonsus within, wondered what it was all about?
Then off he stormed back up the road and the crop was lost which he had sowed thus the moral is plain for all to see talk to your neighbour, before committing hari-cari!
My poem on the rapid suicide of farmers may be you like it.
oh farmer don't do that,
because of you I can sit
on dining table and eat,
just I cannot eat any more ,
the number of time I put my fingers into my mouth
to finish one time meal is very smidgen in comparison to number of deaths,
I cannot understand how frood people eat, eat and eat,
possibilities are that the person who grow grains may have died,
how can we keep them in the very very side
let us contribute let us sell our suit boot ,
to finish their dues from the root,
god will not forgive us for not taking it seriously,
they have also ate their grain when they were in avatars,
why are they dying continuously,
i hate government i hate democracy,
until they stop doing so much hypocrisy,
Posted 6 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Years Ago
A very pertinently personal poem, penned in alluring poetic rhyme, kudos Sir!
dear Tom... Love this story ... You never know the
heart of a neighbor ... The moral is clear ... Give your
neighbor the "benefit of doubt" and so much more. Pat
A wonderful life lesson in this poem, Tom. Reminds me of an old joke Alan King used to tell..."the man with the jack". He works himself up just as Cornelius did and when he gets to the gas station, he shouts, "Keep your damned jack!" Yes, many do not know the art of compromise and they hurt themselves in the long run. Your sense of rhythm and rhyme is wonderful, my friend. I enjoyed this. Lydi**
Posted 7 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
7 Years Ago
Thank you Lydia for your wonderfully integral interpretation of my little rhyming story !
Treasure friendship and reap its benefits. Ego benefits no one for it closes the door on many opportunities and unravels in wicked blindness to the truth. A fitting message for all. An excellent penning. ...:)))))
Posted 7 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
7 Years Ago
Yes indeed Sami you've nailed it & thanks for reading and reviewing so astutely
Yes indeed! When one allows pride to rule, the fall is inevitable. And, what a pity it is to think of all that has been lost because of it. In the example you so clearly deliver to us with excellent rhyme and rhythm, we find a lesson that is everything but excellent and proper; the crop is ruined, the friendship never had a chance. I would suppose that the spoiled harvest wasn't even fit for the birds to reap.
Your example is also a "just right" one for the Harvest season that is at hand. Too bad the two couldn't have talked about it over a piece of homemade apple pie, and a warm cup of tea!
.........good to have you back again!!
Posted 7 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
7 Years Ago
Thank you kindly Sheila for your always welcome visit and discerning appraisal of my poem!