| Vintage Colorado Poetry Poem of the Week January 31, 2005 |
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| The likely pseudonymous "Job Straight, Pike's Peak Poet" claims to be from Posey County, Indiana. Posey County is real enough. Written for New Year's 1860, Rocky Mountain News, "A Bachelor's Reverie ... " speaks of bygone meals and lost love. The poem seems an equally fitting lead-in for Valentine's Day. | ||||||||||||
| A Bachelor's Reverie at the "Peak." How He Got Here and Why He Came. 'Tis a bright lovely night, all is quiet and still, Save the howling of the wolves on the side of the hill ; The stars twinkle brightly, the moon's mellow light Sheds a halo of glory infinitely bright, O'er the mountains which sleep 'neath her soft hallowed rays, And the valleys and plains, where 'tis lovely to gaze On the jewels that glitter on every dry spear, To deck the bright brow of the happy New Year. Here I sit in my cabin, my thoughts running fast O'er the days that have fled in the dim, misty past ; Methinks that again I am back to the States, Where mince-pies, and apples, and hot buckwheat cakes, And fresh pork, and potatoes, and peaches and cream, And oysters, and fruit cake, on table-cloth clean, Are spread out before me -- but alas ! 'tis a dream ! For I turn myself around, and behold on the wall That side of old bacon, too strong e're to fall ; And there in the corner, behind the bean sacks, Is a loaf, which to cut I must sharpen the axe ! But still the bright visions will hover around, And methinks that once more I hear the sweet sound Of Sarah Ann's voice, and again that I press Her angel-like form to my deep throbbing breast, And I whisper sweet words in her e'er willing ear, While she accents so sweetly -- "Oh, Joby my dear !" Then a kiss, and a "happy good night" as we part, And I go to my bed -- not to sleep, for my heart Keeps throbbing so strongly, while, dreaming, I'll start, And fold my arms 'round whatever is near, And wake myself up, saying -- "Sarah Ann, dear !" But -- ah me ! recollection now carries me back To the time when my poor broken spirit was racked By Sarah Ann's falseness, for sure as I'm born, Instead of love's nectar, she fed me SOFT CORN ! I begged and I prayed, but 'twas all for no use, She laughed as she called me her "SOFT CORN FED GOOSE !" So, without more ado, I made a straight streak For somewhere, and found myself here at the "Peak !" Job Straight, P. P. P., formerly of Posey Co., Indiana Reprinted from the Rocky Mountain News, The Mines and Miners of Jefferson [Territory], Auraria and Denver, Jefferson [Territory], Wednesday, January 18, 1860. |
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