If this post title leaves you a trifle puzzled, I'm sorry. My smallest granddaughter once initiated me into Dora's cartoon land, and has occasionally waved merchandise under my nose with blatant Dora logos embossed on its various plastic horrors.
You will gather I favour more traditional, less consumer driven toys. However, that's another story.
Although I've never watched the TV programme, from the title, I assume Dora is an intrepid explorer. That's what I've felt like the past couple of days, flitting round Blogland, peeking at various pals latest offerings and reacquainting myself with their goings on.
While visiting one of my longtime favourites at http://weaverofgrass.blogspot.com/, what should I see but a photo of a combine harvester, along with Weaver's delightful Kraken poem. Then, Lo! and Behold! I found http://crystaljigsaw.blogspot.com/ with a green giant of a tractor on the heading banner.
They reminded me of something I wrote back in the days when I trundled up and down the South Coast railway line to work, and often saw combines and tractors busy in the adjacent fields.
Clean Cut
Harvest dust cloud
shrouds barbershop tractor
noisily creating
crew-cut stubble fields.
Heads of ripened corn
stand to attention,
waiting to be cropped.
No blonde tipped stalks
will be left, to weave
magic-movement patterns
under the teasing comb
of a warm summer wind.
that is one clear picture you painted.
ReplyDeleteAllo Ms Dora love, 'ow are ya?
ReplyDelete:))
Have a wonderful, relaxing week-end with out Doro. Our youngest Granddaughter was infatuated with Doro for a while, but she grew out of it, thank goodness.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem....mine too went through the Dora phase....I watched every show with them and still do with my little 4 year old great niece. Every time we go shopping we pick up something with Dora on it.....its fun and it doesn't last long......:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteThat was a fun poem.
ReplyDelete(Read all the end words straight down, and you almost get a whole new poem! Last stanza: "stalks weave patterns, comb wind.") :)
Jinsky - your poetry makes me want to go and slink into a corner and sulk a bit. Oh, would that I could... It's a lovely poem and, once again, conjures up such glorious images.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry I've not been around much - although I've crept in from time to time - but life has kind of caught up on me and things have been a whirly-gig of mad activity - some great, some positively not that wonderful.
I have a nice cup of Rooibos here, so will tootle off now to try and catch up on all I've missed while I sip my tea.
Good as usual, Jinksy - it is so lovely to have you back in blogland!
ReplyDeleteLove the poem painting- a phrase I coined, because Poetry is a special form of painted pictures with words.
ReplyDeleteHave a nice weekend.
Lovely painted picture with your poem Jinksy, I love the combine harvesters cutting the corn, it's such a wonderful old English site.
ReplyDeleteYay -- you're back! I missed you alot. Now blogland will once again be alive and thriving on Napple's delicious notes!
ReplyDeleteI am well acquainted with Dora the Explorer thanks to Millie, my 4 yr old granddaughter, along with many other programmes that I endure from time to time, when she is watching!
ReplyDeleteThere's nothing like the satisfaction of a harvest but I associate harvest time with September and I haven't experienced summer yet! I guess different crops have to be harvested at different times.
I'm so glad to see you again, jinksy. I've missed you.
ReplyDeleteMy granddaughter loved Dora too. I had no idea who she was. She filled me in.. :))
So good to read your blog...and I love your poem...a picture in words....I see the dust..and 'crew cut' is a perfect description. Those yellow tassels are beautiful when it is almost harvest time. The wind makes a beautiful waving motion through a full corn field. You write very well my friend, jinksy...I can see, feel, and hear the cornfield before and after harvest.. through your poem.
Smiles,
Jackie
this dora the explorer rings a bell :)
ReplyDeleteNicely done! I like the bit about the comb of the wind.
ReplyDeleteIt's probably just like that on the Canadian prairies, an area I have driven through but never stayed a night. Lovely poem! :D
ReplyDeleteHi Jinksy
ReplyDeleteI have just found you via Dave King and gone back over the last page of posts. Hope you are fine, because I'd love to visit again and read more of your poetry and prose. No idea who Dora is but I love the tractors. Few heads of ripened corn here just bleating sheep.
Glad you are back in good form!
ReplyDeleteI just read your comment on Friko’s blog and came over. I like your poem and wish I could write one in English. I used to write some in French (my native language) but have never felt good enough with my English to write poetry; even though that is the only language I speak here (no French people around here). I’ll come back to read more of your posts.
ReplyDeleteThank you for visiting my blog. I wrote French poetry way back when I lived there and when I came over to the United States I left it behind with much of my things. I don’t remember any of it unfortunately, so I don’t write it anymore. I read other people’s poems.
ReplyDeleteJinksy...I'm checking in with my friend again. It's Monday...July 13. I wanted you to know that you are in my thoughts....and I hope that you are having a good day. Your poem is a 'hit'
ReplyDelete:))
Good on ya, girl!!
Smiles,
Jackie
Thanks to some little people I know, I know all about dora and her cousin Pedro. I made a quilt for one of my little buddies and it had dora on it. Like, you I prefer the less commercial toys. *s*
ReplyDeleteHi Jinksy, it is my first time here in your blog and I want to say that you got a cool blog. I enjoyed reading your post.
ReplyDeleteHave a happy weekdays. :)
so true how the internet world has opened our eyes to see many of a diverse land and lives...often I read and envy that others are not barricaded by the walls of cement, sirens, homeless people and ladies of the night....although, I love where I am, reading others can bring forth the longing to be in green pastures, flowers, birds, silence of the wind in the trees...well put this blog of yours
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