The Ides of June are quickly approaching as the Ancient Eagle team returns to the Internet. Two weeks of travel, far off-line, were a good lesson in unplugging. Life is possible without being in constant touch. For ten days, total focus was on the birds, bugs and larger wildlife in Mozambique. There are, however, equally compelling experiences to be found at home. Case in point, the inspiration to June's Poem of the Month.
The Wreck of the Unsinkable Molly Drown
The school year was over
The kids were all set free
They rested on their backsides
On the living room settee.
The Internet was overtaxed
From all their online gaming,
When Granddad came into the room
And started with the shaming.
"This is no way to spend your time
The summer’s for exploring
Let’s seize the day and have some fun
Before the rain starts pouring.
Let’s grab a fishing pole of two
And catch ourselves some dinner,
Or boating on the lake would be
Another summer winner."
So up they jumped (with muted groans)
And put their games on pause
And followed Granddad on his quest
Despite his many flaws.
They limbered up the fishing poles,
And hooked a cedar tree,
Then snagged the youngest with a lure
Till Grandmom set her free.
“Let’s go for something safer,
We’ll head out on the sea,
I’ll take the little boat
And leave the big one for you three.
She is a fine and sturdy craft
With lots of foam inside her,
All winter she’s been waiting here.
Please just ignore the spider.”
“For years she’s plied these waters,
She glides across the lake,
This gal will never fail you.
Get aboard for Heaven’s sake!”
So in they climbed, they filled the craft
Up to the water line,
The kids had grown, perhaps too much
But everything was fine.
They turned the prow into the wind
And paddled with a passion,
Though heading was uncertain
In a somewhat random fashion.
They managed to get turned around
Thanks to the strongest rower
Then noticed things weren’t going well:
The boat kept getting lower.
Their shoes and socks were getting wet,
Their pants were getting soggy,
The boat was getting hard to steer,
The future now looked foggy.
A desperate cry went to the shore,
Where Grandmom stood her ground,
“I’ll call into the Coast Guard,
I don’t want to see you drowned.”
Then sprinting to the rescue,
Granddad used his small kayak
To nudge the big boat toward the shore,
And get the grandkids back.
They jumped into the water
As the boat achieved the shore,
Where dripping and unhappy
They swore to boat no more.
Granddad kept on laughing
Till he realized that ants
Were living in his kayak
And now crawling in his pants.
So now the tale is started
And we’ll hear it evermore,
Of when Granddad launched the kid’s boat
With the drain plug still ashore.
Lee Alloway 2018
Each month Ancient Eagle Press offers a poem appropriate to the season or the mood of our editorial staff. Poems may be new or drawn from existing AEP editions.
Poem of the Month
May 2018 -- Advice to my Grandson
April 2018 -- Awaiting Idunn
March 2018 -- Flight
February 2018 -- Lakesong
January 2018 -- Schrödinger's Cat
December 2017 -- Daybreak
October 2017 -- Night Watch
September 2017 -- The Princess
August 2017 - Pelham
July 2017 -- Siena
June 2017 -- Loyal, Straight, and True
May 2017 -- A Thousand Flowers
April 2017 -- Oboe Rap
March 2017 - March Madness
February 2017 -- The Cost of Doing Business
January 2017 -- Reflection at a Winter Window
December 2016 -- The Creation
November 2016 -- Hemolymph Moon
October 2016 -- Vortex
September 2016 -- Do You?
Ancient Eagle Press
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost