7200
Couched
in the
concept
of a well,
(which supplied
the water
for faded glory
of "Glen Elm),"
my boy
hood abode,
another
metaphorical
attempt
at writer's
block - aid,
here attempting
to reference
(former Leiper
estate re: early
twentieth
century demesne)
across avast
tract, which
bestrode
approximately
a hundred
acres enshrined
sanctuary,
(yet whittled down
to about
a half
dozen acres,
when Boyce Harris
made purchase
circa February
28th 1968),
sans plethora
paradise
of flora and fauna
once code
did ecologic niche,
now...long since
transformed
into ticky tack
vinyl cityservicing
twenty first
century
materialistic
cushy
(on tushy)
sedentary worker
dog tired
to pen a ditty
(butta no mien
mean manual
laborer,
neither
grubby
nor gritty)
propertied class
i.e. bourgeoisie),
whence about
a century
gone by,
where
wild woods
would still
have been
agreeable
to the ghost
of Walter Mitty,
or John
James Audubon
(born Jean Rabin;
April 26, 1785 –
January 27, 1851,
an American
ornithologist,
naturalist,
and painter),
who would pity
fully unleash
torrential
tears,
nor witty
countenance
supposedly
progress
this eighteenth
year since advent
of second millennium
bench marked
based on
start of
common era
at expense,
where
countless
animals and
plants veer
really didst
vanish,
ah swell
as a pond
attracting
Canadian Geese
(they honked in
French),
now...there
tis nary a trace
of former Currier
and Ives bucolic
scene,
aye swear
not e'en a
sparse
copse pier
reed (and
exclamation
point)
argh near
re: zero vestige
of vanished
rural expanse
mere lee
cookie cutter
(look alike)
family
dwellings
brave
lee evicting,
jack knifing,
and crave
vin lee over
laying pastoral
enclave
iniquitous
(courtesy of
Neilson,
and flave
er flave
Gambone
Brothers),
rendered grave
bounty viz
Anne Xing
Mother Nature's
brethren and
cistern did pave
a successful
accomplishment
measured by
(Ole) standard
in parlance
and accorded rave,
ving reviews,
asper a job
welled (weld) done,
where only
legally tendered
bucks fate
didst save!
