The scene of the crime

[Poeticpiers]

The scene of the crime

Once there were woods here, this I know
but they are gone as all things go
progress must come and with it change.
Now red brick house are on show.

Here in the woods I used to play
from morn til night each summers day
progress must come and with it change.
Now picket fences bar my way.

New curtained windows overlook
the flowing waters of the brook
progress must come and with it change.
Now I regret the path I took

I should have stayed not sold the land
for dirty money s cash in hand
progress must come and with it change.
Now it’s too late I understand.

For I betrayed my sacred trust
the trees I sold became sawdust
progress must come and with it change.
Now all the world learns to adjust

The cash I made is long since spent
on women, wine and merriment
progress must come and with it change.
Now I am truly penitent.

Jun 2004

[Territorial Hawk]

Oh wow...

[Michael]

Piers, nicely rhymed, as usual.

However, the message is an all too sad one. In another response, I referenced a line from a song by a singer named Buffy Saint Marie. The line is, “Pave a paradise/put up a parking lot.” Of course, you’d say, “car park”, but, then, the song would never have been written, would it?. You do hit the target, though.

The refrain in the third line of each stanza is a creative move.

Here in the woods I used to play
from morn til night each summers day
progress must come and with it change.
Now picket fences bar my way.

I don’t know if it’s intentional, but the syntactic placement of “fences” and “bar” in the fourth line of the above stanza makes it so that one mirrors the other, reinforces the other. The line creates the feeling of entrapment. Not an inappropriate feeling for a piece entitled “The scene of the crime”.

[laleesh]

oh, i agree this is sad. the nature of life, existence is change, progression. i tell my friends and family constantly how fortunate i was in that i think i experienced the tail end of the "good ole days" when a child could play in the woods all day and mother not be in the least concerned,
and when we could sleep at night with windows and doors wide open but the screens - in town! find a field, any old field, fenced or not, and from it pick bouquets of flowers or fruit from the trees!

my grandchildren have never spent a day alone in the woods playing and exploring in their lives. nor do they have any desire to, the fences around their world already too high for them to see over.

sad.



:)
lalala

[Beki]

Bravo Ivor - Beki applauds...once again your gift of rhyme has produced a winner

[DaBomb]

I enjoyed the rhyme here, and I loved the structure. It is a bit of brilliance to have the repeated line in each stanza as a transit from the past (first two lines) to the present (finish). And the sinister nature of "progress" is played well against the serenity of the "past"; I got the feeling of a stalker watching an innocent victim, then striking in the third line (thereafter repeated, like aftershocks). Impressive work, as usual Ivor.

Bryan