Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALLAD OF THE DOORSTONE, by LOUISE AYRES GARNETT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD OF THE DOORSTONE, by                    
First Line: I wet my feet in the river
Last Line: So they say.


I wet my feet in the river
And it's here I must stay,
Close to my door-stone,
Forever and a day --
So they say.

All day and all day
I watched my da's sheep,
Helped them with their lambing,
Huddled them to sleep.

And all day and all day
I watched the three cows,
Coaxed their lazy udders,
Turned them out to browse.

But my thoughts were wild ducks
And off they would fly
Over the bog
To the scruff of the sky.

And my wild-duck thoughts
Beat their windy wings,
Though my body bided here
Minding other things.

There fell a day in April;

My ducks swarmed the sky --
Destroyed I was with milking cows,
And wished I could die,
Or their dugs go dry.

And then -- came the beat
Of hoofs upon the turf,
Skeltering hoofs that mounted
Like pounding surf;

And out through the furze
A horse plunged by,
Flinging in the ditch
Something to die,
Something strange to die.

God help me, he was proud to see!
A rider of the world,
The whisht of death upon his face,
His hair bright-curled --
The jewel of the world.

He was flung there to die --
But my arms made his bed,
My breath breathed him back
From the shiftless dead.

You'll die, and I'll die,
But he die? -- Never!
He'll laugh and ride and kiss
For always and forever.

Too soon it was I cured him.
He stood up like a tree,
His curling locks were bright as brass,
His breast the height of me.

All day and all day
He helped me tend the sheep,
Taught me April's ways,
Her tryst to keep.

And all night and all night
We counted the stars.
Oh, I wouldn't trade my lot,
For all its scars
And its pasture bars!

I grudged an hour's sleeping --
His saddle would speak,
And time would come he'd gallop off,
God's breath upon his cheek.

And he went so --
In a splendor of hoofs
That sped like arrows
Through the skyey roofs.

A moon of April
Drew him from sight,
Left me shut of laughter
In a blur of night.

All day and all day
I watch my da's sheep.
But things are not the same now --
I've something to keep.

And all night and all night
I think of my dear --
The thought of him is bright as rain
And warm as a tear.

When Winter tramps the hillside
In boots of snow
And shouts down the world-way
His rough hallo,
I'll not be smited with his fist,
Nor think him over-strong.
Oh, I'll be taking stitches
A fair-foot long,
And humming a song.

Oh, I shall be a-borning
My own white lamb.
I'll never let him miss his sire
So close will be his dam.

And when my lad is come a man
I'll tell him of his sire,
I'll bid him leave the barley field,
The cows in the byre,

And go where my wild ducks
Fly past the hill,
Leading the way
As wild ducks will.

And he shall know his sire
By his own glad grace.
I'll have no son, I'm telling you,
Without his father's face.

He'll say, "You're my da,
And it's I am your lad.
My mother sent me back to you --
I'm everything she had."

Oh, I wet my feet in the river,
And it's here I must stay,
Close to my door-stone
For always and a day --
So they say,
So they say.





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