The hoof-beats sound, the harness clacks and clinks,
The wagon rattles in the frosty air
Along the level prairie road that swings
To the low, dark bulk whereon the sodded roof
Bristles with meager, winter-beaten weeds.
Before it, ranks of whip-like trees stand guard;
Behind lie cribs, straw sheds, the well, the woodpile,
And the garden square fenced in by a gooseberry hedge
From weathering stalks and stubble. The house front
Shows but two windows and one deep-set door.
How plain the lines of old gray grass that check
Layer from layer all the mud-brown wall
Though rain, and wind, and sun, and frost have crumbled
The edges from the sods. A visitor
May pass the gable to lift the home-made latch
Of the lean-to kitchen buttressing the rear.
What warmth ! How smooth and clean the earthen floor!
The low room shines with kitchen-gear in order.
The living room is curtained. Smooth, bright boards
O’erlie the dressed log rafters; braided rugs
Bless the pine floor, and homely chairs draw near
To table, stove, and bookshelf. Last and best,
Within the windows’ deep recesses, flowers,
Wax plant, geranium, fuchsia, and oxalis,
Full-blossomed spite of every wintry wind.
(Edwin Ford Piper)
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Based on Topics: Flowers Poems, Garden Poems, Weeds PoemsBased on Keywords: home-made, geranium, gable, cribs, hoof-beats, sods, bristles, gooseberry, deep-set, woodpile, bookshelf