The Ant King


  • Childhood

    The Ant King

    Wind always sighs from the effort

    To labor through the pine boughs

    And always leaves with resin on its breath


    I’m not sure why the sigh haunts me so

    To and fro, to and fro, a spooky sound

    All the night, or forever until death


    Morning, ants upon its weeping bark

    Climb unhurried heavenward

    Just to taste its bitter tears


    And I, below, but on a lark, join them

    On an impulse skyward, so at six, 

    I’ll remember through the years


    A boy can dream of castle’s keep

    Above some dungeon dark

    And lift the makeshift manner gate


    Wrapping the knotted sisal tightly

    Around a sturdy willing limb

    I’m the ant king, and that feels just great


    When the vison passes, I shinny down

    Pitch stuck on in shiny ribbon souveniers

    And suddenly I know, why the wind sighs so.

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    carynontherhine commented on The Ant King


    I almost felt as though I was in the wilderness camping maybe or just walking through. Your descriptives never cease to amaze me and bring me to the depth of your writes. Great Harvy!! Hugz



    I guess at six my back yard was a wilderness... of sorts. I once stepped barefoot on a huge milk snake in the tall grass in the field behind the lawn on my way to the raspberry patch. Never made it that day! LOL Harv

    Hampton commented on The Ant King


    A lovely poem nestled within the branches of a tree and the imagination of a young heart.



    Thanks for reading. Is there another 3 time weekly winner here? You done good my man. Done good. Harv



    I don't know if there are other 3 time winners or not. Could be. In either case I thank you for your kindness.



    I think ginga has had three wins also, but past that I'm not sure, maybe dah. Anyway it is a short list. Kudos. Harv

    Mareann commented on The Ant King


    You have awaken my senses with this wiked aroma of pine sap... A better smell then most trees, terpentine oil? Isn't that which our mothers used to get the sap off with... I feel a trip to the mountains coming on soon... yummy!



    Mom called for help, and Dad got out the "turp" as he called it, and bailed the both of us out. Heeven let me climb the tree, but showed me the solvent oil to use myself the next time. Harv



    Thank God my memory serves me correctly a good majority of the time... Lol... Sounds like an adventure for sure! I do miss the good old days...

    ginga commented on The Ant King


    Harv, This poem lends so much...the aroma of pine, the viscous sap on ones tree climbing hands, the image of one in the forest gazing skyward and recalling their childhood. An awe inspiring poem. ginga



    I was sighing think of what Mom would say on seeing it on my pants come washday. LOL Harv

    tenderpoison commented on The Ant King


    this feels just magical Harv - I loved it. made me feel nostalgic for my own young imaginings....and I really enjoyed the ending. Perfect poetry 10



    Those were magical days. There were exactly 10 more Christmases until I could get a driver's license. Harv

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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