Wednesday, April 29, 2020


Wednesday Scribblings, and we’re to practice
the art of enjambment.   I am so entrenched in
poetry of rhyme and rhythm, and nicely completed
thought on each line I find it difficult to
enjamb!   I will, however, give it a try.
Submitted to Poets & Storytellers United
April 29, 2020

Freshly turned earth has a pungent
fragrance that takes me back
to my mother’s garden, which she tended
at the blush of day when the roosters
were announcing sun-up, and the dew clung
to the flowers before the sun burned
it away.

The smell of the rich, black earth
takes me also to the fields surrounding
home.  I close my eyes and see
my father, tall and strong in his overalls,
looking at me with love and a
chuckle as he takes me onto his lap
and lets me steer the tractor
toward home and suppertime.  

child of the prairie
unaware of world troubles
blessed with innocence


  1. Such sweet memories.... precious to the core...

  2. This is gorgeously executed, Beverly!!😃 You are an absolute natural when it comes to Enjambment. Especially love; "The smell of the rich, black earth takes me also to the fields surrounding home." Thank you so much for writing to the challenge!💘


  3. Aww memories are made of this. Thanks for your poetry share of earth smells and innocence
    Happy you dropped by to read mine


  4. This is beautiful. Triggered warm and wonderful memories of my grandfather in his overalls, letting me drive the tractor while sitting on his lap, take an oar and paddle the canoe. Thank you.

  5. You did a great job with the enjambment!

  6. Nothing prosey about this wonderful poem! (Referring to your comment at P&SU.) I think when one is 'entrenched in the poetry of rhyme and rhythm', the poetry will not desert us even when we vary the form or approach. Knowing the rules well enables us to break them successfully.

  7. child of the prairie... oh so dramatic that visual.. beautiful..

  8. We have some things in common, Beverly. My father wore overalls while other farmers around did not and I drove a tractor at five while he would throw bales of hay to the cattle.
    The smell of the freshly turned soil - I look forward to that every spring.