Friday Fiction - "Homefront"

This is a poem I wrote when was in high school...a long time ago...in honor of the Minutemen who rode with Paul Revere on April 18, 1775. Here is the story of one family who did their part at home.


Homefront

Quiet, waiting, restlessness
Silent praying, sleeplessness
Moon on the window, glistening
Dripping, dripping, listening

A gallop on stones, a shout in the night!
A cry of a child, a call to fight.
A candle lit, a boot stamped in place,
A bag of vittles, a tender embrace

“Hurry, hurry”, but we’ll miss you so.
“Here’s your things.” Do you have to go?
A peek at the babe, in sleepful bliss,
The horse is saddled, one last kiss.

“Hush, little child, wipe your tears.
I’m here to hold you, calm your fears.”
Rocking away the hours, creaking,
Knowing the Lord of All is keeping.

The fire crackles, a rooster crows.
The porridge simmers, daylight grows.
So much to do, barnyard chores,
Gather the eggs, sweep the floors.

Muskets thundering in the hills,
Quickens my heartbeat, gives me chills.
“Oh, Lord,” I whisper, “Please,” I pray,
“Please, bring my lover home today.”

“Where is Papa? I want to play ball.”
Oh, when did my firstborn get so tall?
“He’s fighting the British, my little man,
Fighting for freedom the best he can.”

Shadowy clouds hide the light of noon.
“Bless this food. Bring Papa home soon.”
Milk with cheese and toasted bread,
Then down for a nap, my sleepy head.

There’s butter to churn, wool to comb,
Keeping busy ’til he comes home.
“Fetch my shawl. It’s getting cool.”
He stands on tiptoe, upon his stool.

A glance at the window, it’s raining now,
A dash to the barn, to milk the cow.
Carrots, potatoes, and meat in the pot,
More wood in the fire, to make it hot.

A step at the door, the rain blows in.
A shout of joy! A tear begins.
Before the crackling fireplace
His tired smile my fears erase.

Rain on the roof, pattering, singing,
Victory’s won, church bells ringing!
Quiet again, restfulness,
Silent praying, thankfulness.


Be sure to check out the other stories this week at Shelley's blog The Veil Thins and leave a comment.

5 comments:

Rita's Random Ramblings said...

You painted a wonderful depiction of that era, as well as the event. Even more impressive is the fact you wrote this in your teens. WOW! Hugs, Rita

Sharlyn Guthrie said...

Great poem! You added so many details. Very impressive that you wrote it as a teenager.

Sara Harricharan @ Fiction Fusion said...

Oooh, I remember this one! Good as always, Vonnie! Such great descriptions and, wow! ^_^

Catrina Bradley... said...

You wrote this in high school? Such talent. The story, and the emotions, are so clearly expressed, in perfect poetic meter and rhyme.

Bear said...

It's amazing how accurately you nailed the emotions and prayers of an adult woman with young children while still so young yourself. This really lifted me.

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