The Old Man

[Keith]

Edit 2
Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter,
fifty years has gone in a flicker,
English breakfast clears the head,
with cleaners poised to make the beds.

The old man's peak calls down our names,
we start the ascent in Coniston's rain,
out of breath I pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
pockets full of left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze the knees,
sheltered in the kernel's lea.

Swollen becks that ebb and flow,
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light.

Down we plod through farm and field,
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night out so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter,
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter.

[cidermaid]

Hi Kieth,
really enjoyed this read... comfortable and comforting in the images and pictures that it brought to mind, sort of felt like a lazy weekend reminisce with some old friends, whilst wearing a boyfriend jumper and stoking the fire. (Mine's a pint of Guinness please!)

No real nits as such, perhaps a couple of the lines feel a bit over long and might benifit from a tweek.
In St1 L2 is it possible to work out a contaction with Could and have.
and in St4 L2 perhaps crossing when the gushing slows.
AJ

[Keith]

Hi Kieth,
really enjoyed this read... comfortable and comforting in the images and pictures that it brought to mind, sort of felt like a lazy weekend reminisce with some old friends, whilst wearing a boyfriend jumper and stoking the fire. (Mine's a pint of Guinness please!)

No real nits as such, perhaps a couple of the lines feel a bit over long and might benifit from a tweek.
In St1 L2 is it possible to work out a contaction with Could and have.
and in St4 L2 perhaps crossing when the gushing slows.
AJ

Many thanks AJ have took your advice, cheers
Keith

Guiness a meal in a glass

[billy]

drunk as skunks is way way too cliche but it works so i'd say leave em in, they add ambience, the meter wobbles in places. either too long or too short. i've suggest some things but it need a run through by your fair self for the rest. it's a decent light and airy poem about coniston and works okay but i'd have loved to have read more about it's beauty.

Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter,
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the heads, breakfasts or head i'd suggest;[b]an english breakfast clears the head and change 'beds' 'bed'[/b]
cleaners poised to make the beds. 'with' in front of cleaners to sort the meter out

The old man calls down our names,
start the ascent in Coniston rain, should it be Coniston's remove "the"
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
take a bite from left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees,
squat down behind the kernels lea.

Swollen tarns that ebb and flow,
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light.

Down we plod on farm and field,
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter,
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter.

[Keith]

drunk as skunks is way way too cliche but it works so i'd say leave em in, they add ambience, the meter wobbles in places. either too long or too short. i've suggest some things but it need a run through by your fair self for the rest. it's a decent light and airy poem about coniston and works okay but i'd have loved to have read more about it's beauty.

Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter,
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the heads, breakfasts or head i'd suggest;[b]an english breakfast clears the head and change 'beds' 'bed'[/b]
cleaners poised to make the beds. 'with' in front of cleaners to sort the meter out

The old man calls down our names,
start the ascent in Coniston rain, should it be Coniston's remove "the"
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
take a bite from left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees,
squat down behind the kernels lea.

Swollen tarns that ebb and flow,
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light.

Down we plod on farm and field,
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter,
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter.

Thanks Billy I have had a go at this so the edits up, thanks for the comment and crit I am working on something else that deals with lakeland beauty so I will keep this as is. Cheers Keith

[Smiffy]

My first go at critique on the forum, enjoyed your poem one close to my heart as a fellow walker and beer drinker , apologies if I get the idea of critique in this case wrong

Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter, should the B's be capitals as it's the name of the beer[/b]
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the head,
with cleaners poised to make the beds.

The old man calls down our names, same again should Old Man be in capitals as the name of the mountain
start ascent in Coniston's rain,
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
pockets full of left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees, I'd suggest "the" rather than my[/b]
sheltered in the kernels lea.

Swollen tarns that ebb and flow, should Tarns be becks, not sure Tarns ebb and flow
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light.

Down we plod on farm and field, maybe "through "rather than on
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter, fighting fitter seems a bit contrived but I cannot see any other way to fit in with your last line unless you swop the lines around and have a last line ending in fitter
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter.

[Keith]

My first go at critique on the forum, enjoyed your poem one close to my heart as a fellow walker and beer drinker , apologies if I get the idea of critique in this case wrong

Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter, should the B's be capitals as it's the name of the beer[/b]
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the head,
with cleaners poised to make the beds.

The old man calls down our names, same again should Old Man be in capitals as the name of the mountain
start ascent in Coniston's rain,
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
pockets full of left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees, I'd suggest "the" rather than my[/b]
sheltered in the kernels lea.

Swollen tarns that ebb and flow, should Tarns be becks, not sure Tarns ebb and flow
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light.

Down we plod on farm and field, maybe "through "rather than on
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter, fighting fitter seems a bit contrived but I cannot see any other way to fit in with your last line unless you swop the lines around and have a last line ending in fitter
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter.

Thanks Smiffy
Some good suggestions here, many thanks for taking the time to crit and feedback, much appreciated will have another edit thanks TOMH

[heslopian]

Edit 2
Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter, Is "bluebird bitter" a real brand or just a colloquialism?
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the head, "English" should be capitalised.
with cleaners poised to make the beds. Good line.

The old man calls down our names,
start ascent in Coniston's rain,
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance. The established rhyme scheme forced me to pronounce "romance" roe-MARNCE at first, which tripped me up.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
pockets full of left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees,
sheltered in the kernels lea. Apostrophe before "s" in "kernels."

Swollen becks that ebb and flow,
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light. Good line. Simple and effective.

Down we plod through farm and field,
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter,
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter. Another simple and effective line.

A sweet, evocative poem with some jolly images. The meter doesn't quite flow, which makes the rhyming bumpy at times, but other than that this was a pleasant read.

[Keith]

Edit 2
Drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter, Is "bluebird bitter" a real brand or just a colloquialism?
fifty years gone in a flicker,
english breakfast clears the head, "English" should be capitalised.
with cleaners poised to make the beds. Good line.

The old man calls down our names,
start ascent in Coniston's rain,
out of breath we pause to glance,
lakeland colours, a fine romance. The established rhyme scheme forced me to pronounce "romance" roe-MARNCE at first, which tripped me up.

Make the summit bold and breathless,
pockets full of left over breakfast,
snow drops in to freeze my knees,
sheltered in the kernels lea. Apostrophe before "s" in "kernels."

Swollen becks that ebb and flow,
crossing when the gushing slows,
calm behind the mountains might,
sorry sun brings welcome light. Good line. Simple and effective.

Down we plod through farm and field,
chit and chat keep spirits healed,
back for baths and evening naps,
tales of walks and friendly laughs.

Last night so what can you do?
village bound with the rest of the crew,
bellies full and fighting fitter,
drunk as skunks on bluebird bitter. Another simple and effective line.

A sweet, evocative poem with some jolly images. The meter doesn't quite flow, which makes the rhyming bumpy at times, but other than that this was a pleasant read.

Many thanks, will make some changes, Bluebird Bitter is real ale brewed in the lake district and named after the boat that broke the world speed record on Coniston water driven by Donald Campbell unfortunatley on his second attempt the boat flipped and he died.