Nostalgia

[Wjames]

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay”
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid.

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat,
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep.

[Sparkydashforth]

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street.......from the start you set up a strong rhythmic beat, and set up a neat little scene.
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,.........the rhyme and beat are perfect
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak............
not sure of repeated 'so' but it does lend a kind of nursery rhyme flavor to the work
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.............now this is unexpected!

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play.............nice scene setting
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say.....................feels a little awkward
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay”
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid...................nice dash of realism here

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat,.............dude that's a sweet couplet.
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep................delish acerbic last words.

A highly musical and well crafted work.

[Mahjong]

This is lovely anapestic tetrameter. Seems almost perfect to me, except perhaps for the second line of the third stanza, where I get tripped up a tiny bit on 'Joan'--maybe a single syllable name, if I'm reading the line correctly (and I might not be): "like the [butch]er's wife [Flo] who would [pack]age our [meat]" (I just realized that this is not Jo-an--it's Joan, as in Joan of Arc :-). Also, and just a passing observation, the topographical imagery of the first stanza is a tiny bit cluttered to me; I have a little trouble picturing all that stuff on a bluff, and how 'feet' might pass there between your bench and the lake. Again, minor point. I really like how in each stanza the opening imagery of innocence becomes mediated by a touch of miasma at the end--the grey lake, the drunk dad, the stillborn sheep. Where one could try to capture these darker clouds with a variation in the meter, I think their rolling in under the easy and enjoyable anapestic beat creates just the right amount of qualifying dissonance appropriate to nostalgia. Thanks for this poem!

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay”
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid.

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat,
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep.

[CRNDLSM]

I tripped a few times with tense changes, but there's is there was, right?  but it's also the narrators natural tense because of the meter...  

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,because all the prepositions are different why not try 'by a' or something instead of the both 'and a's
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay”
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid.I like this way laid, it stops me in the rhthym and makes me think of it more

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet folks are folksy?
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat,
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep.

Thanks for the read!

[Lizzie]

Hi Wjames! I have some thoughts for you on this one:

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street -- from, on, in, off....all prepositional phrases stacked on top of each other, it's a bit of an overload of that construction
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak -- the first three lines don't contain a single word that is more than one syllable. I suspect it's because you're trying to be careful about the meter, but the relentlessly simple words make it sound like a children's book.
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” -- the stress falls on "be," which feels unnatural, especially since I would naturally emphasize "hell" in the phrase 'hell to pay.' I certainly wouldn't emphasize "pay" unless there was a fabulous reason. 
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. -- here the stress is supposed to fall at the end right? That would make it say wayLAID, but I've always heard it pronounced WAYlaid.

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet -- folks were folksy? I'm sure that they were, but the repetition doesn't sound intentional, it sounds like an error. I'd probably replace folksy with something else, since it can be easily inferred that folks are folksy, and so you could take the opportunity to modify folks with another appropriate adjective.
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, -- lordy, I have a dirty mind....
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique -- someone's 'cut' can refer to their physique, and that combined with the meat reference.....hopefully it's just me.
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. -- my rational mind would not let me interpret "having been" as modifying "Joan" or "who" but rather "cut," which is the intent I assume. Still, grammatically it could be read as though she used to be the hind leg, or even that the speaker had been as well.

It's a very sweet piece, bordering on saccharin in a few places.

I wonder if my mind is looking for a joke or a punch line because of the meter being so pronounced, as it often is in satirical pieces.

Anyway, I hope something in here helps.

Best,

lizziep

[Mahjong]

Hi Wjames! I have some thoughts for you on this one:

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street -- from, on, in, off....all prepositional phrases stacked on top of each other, it's a bit of an overload of that construction
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak -- the first three lines don't contain a single word that is more than one syllable. I suspect it's because you're trying to be careful about the meter, but the relentlessly simple words make it sound like a children's book.
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” -- the stress falls on "be," which feels unnatural, especially since I would naturally emphasize "hell" in the phrase 'hell to pay.' I certainly wouldn't emphasize "pay" unless there was a fabulous reason. 
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. -- here the stress is supposed to fall at the end right? That would make it say wayLAID, but I've always heard it pronounced WAYlaid.

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet -- folks were folksy? I'm sure that they were, but the repetition doesn't sound intentional, it sounds like an error. I'd probably replace folksy with something else, since it can be easily inferred that folks are folksy, and so you could take the opportunity to modify folks with another appropriate adjective.
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, -- lordy, I have a dirty mind....
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique -- someone's 'cut' can refer to their physique, and that combined with the meat reference.....hopefully it's just me.
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. -- my rational mind would not let me interpret "having been" as modifying "Joan" or "who" but rather "cut," which is the intent I assume. Still, grammatically it could be read as though she used to be the hind leg, or even that the speaker had been as well.

It's a very sweet piece, bordering on saccharin in a few places.

I wonder if my mind is looking for a joke or a punch line because of the meter being so pronounced, as it often is in satirical pieces.

Anyway, I hope something in here helps.

Best,

lizziep

Love these comments by Lizziep.  I learned so much from them!  I just wanted to add one general thought: I actually love the 'double entendre' (as it were) that Lizziep points out (whereas she seems to suggest--"hopefully it's just me"--that they 'might' be problematic, though I might be wrong here).  My sense is that this kind of 'double entendre' is a natural (charming, alluring) always-simmering substrate of these folksy lifeworlds, where on the surface social intercourse (no pun intended here) insists on being so fastidiously saccharin (they're folksy, yes, but they're also human).  That the poem, so simple overall, manages to preserve this simmering substrate is a virtue, to my mind.  That said, I don't believe that said preservation legitimates the grammar ambiguity that Lizziep astutely points out.

[Lizzie]

Hi Wjames! I have some thoughts for you on this one:

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street -- from, on, in, off....all prepositional phrases stacked on top of each other, it's a bit of an overload of that construction
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak -- the first three lines don't contain a single word that is more than one syllable. I suspect it's because you're trying to be careful about the meter, but the relentlessly simple words make it sound like a children's book.
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” -- the stress falls on "be," which feels unnatural, especially since I would naturally emphasize "hell" in the phrase 'hell to pay.' I certainly wouldn't emphasize "pay" unless there was a fabulous reason. 
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. -- here the stress is supposed to fall at the end right? That would make it say wayLAID, but I've always heard it pronounced WAYlaid.

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet -- folks were folksy? I'm sure that they were, but the repetition doesn't sound intentional, it sounds like an error. I'd probably replace folksy with something else, since it can be easily inferred that folks are folksy, and so you could take the opportunity to modify folks with another appropriate adjective.
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, -- lordy, I have a dirty mind....
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique -- someone's 'cut' can refer to their physique, and that combined with the meat reference.....hopefully it's just me.
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. -- my rational mind would not let me interpret "having been" as modifying "Joan" or "who" but rather "cut," which is the intent I assume. Still, grammatically it could be read as though she used to be the hind leg, or even that the speaker had been as well.

It's a very sweet piece, bordering on saccharin in a few places.

I wonder if my mind is looking for a joke or a punch line because of the meter being so pronounced, as it often is in satirical pieces.

Anyway, I hope something in here helps.

Best,

lizziep

Love these comments by Lizziep.  I learned so much from them!  I just wanted to add one general thought: I actually love the 'double entendre' (as it were) that Lizziep points out (whereas she seems to suggest--"hopefully it's just me"--that they 'might' be problematic, though I might be wrong here).  My sense is that this kind of 'double entendre' is a natural (charming, alluring) always-simmering substrate of these folksy lifeworlds, where on the surface social intercourse (no pun intended here) insists on being so fastidiously saccharin (they're folksy, yes, but they're also human).  That the poem, so simple overall, manages to preserve this simmering substrate is a virtue, to my mind.  That said, I don't believe that said preservation legitimates the grammar ambiguity that Lizziep astutely points out.

I think you're right. It was an assumption on my part that the suggestive innuendo would be unintended or unwelcome. And the ambiguity of modifier at the end could provide for a good bit of lightness.

Still, I think that both the straightforwardness of the first bit and the fact that it seems like it's written from a child's perspective work against an interpretation of adult-style joking at the end.

[Wjames]

Thanks for everyone's thoughts.

I sort of wanted each stanza to be like a joke, with the beginning being the set-up and the ending being the punchline. Everything's so sweet and innocent in the beginning, but at the end of each stanza there's a twist (the scene is disgusting, the person got beat, they ate still born sheep), sort of like a Flannery O'Connor story. I don't know if I succeeded, but I like what I have here enough to want to keep working on it, and I'll think about all your suggestions.

I hadn't thought of the double entendre that Lizzie pointed out, so maybe I'll try and do something more (or less) with that.

[RiverNotch]

This piece is just so....weird. It reads like a slightly more childlike, slightly less drug-induced version of Penny Lane. I like it.
From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat,
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak Although this "so grey and so bleak" does kinda stretch it. There's got to be something better for this!
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet. Heh, cute.

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play Maybe "we children"? It was a little weird seeing the speaker suddenly mingle with these kids in the next line.
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” I'm kinda missing punctuation here.
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. Drunks, in fact, are the best people to rob -- oh wait, you meant the other thing. xD

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet "Folksy folks"....trippy, man, trippy.
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, Yeah, reading this with a dirty mind is delightful.
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique Feels like "opine" could be replaced with something more, I dunno, childish -- or at least sweeter sounding. The piece does have a saccharin feel to it, but I think that's a lovely point, especially considering the hints of darkness peppered throughout (disgusting industrial lake, drunkard dad, butchers, meat from a...
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. ...wait, meat from a stillborn black sheep? Is that, like, a legit thing? Eew! Okay, now I know this piece is shitting on me -- in the most delightful way, of course. I wonder if there's a deeper read to this -- one that I probably won't pursue, I find the whole so delightful. Like reading a violent fairy tale. Lovely work.

---

*ooh, I failed to read that late response. I guess you were successful with the mood, at least for me -- and now I'm gonna look up "Flannery O'Connor".

[rollingbrianjones]

From a bench on a bluff in a park off a street (I really enjoyed the relentless prepositions... and managed to build the image perfectly as the line moves along, bravo, so much in a line)
with a school and a church and a mill that ground wheat, (struggled a little continuing building the image, I easily envisioned the park bench on the bluff with an entrance to a street, perhaps at the edge of town... then a school and church I could imagine on the street... though already a bit much to take in by here- then the mill made me think a bit more rurally again as I picture mills in a field, not on a street with a school/church. Almost made me go from park to built up area back to field/mill. Though, I assume you describe a real place from your past?)
there’s a view of a lake that’s so grey and so bleak (this threw in a nice juxtaposition with the cutesy little scene I'd thus far pictured!)
that I’d sit and pretend I was looking at feet. (got a bit lost with this bit, felt like a bit of a grab at rhyme and meter- though again I assume there is some real experience being noted. Made me think of pretending to look at your feet as people walk past... but I read literally as it suggests that you are looking at the bleak scene but pretending to look at feet?! Think I am missing something here. Feel free to explain will perhaps further my enjoyment of reading!).

There’s a field by the shops where the children would play
with our baseballs and bats ‘til one mother would say
“All you kids should go home, or there’ll be hell to pay” (I think "there'll be hell to pay" isn't as easy off the tongue as the rest of the poem, thought again you are concentrating on nailing rhyme/meter perhaps at the cost of the overall experience of the reader?)
but my dad was a drunk, and could not be waylaid. (I read this as your dad is playing with you and wasn't having any of the stopping the baseball, a lovely image if I read that correctly. And also if as I perceived it, your dad drunk being one of the kids is a great image too.)

There were folks in the town that were folksy and sweet (mixed previous comments on folksy- I love it- know exactly what you mean)
like the butcher’s wife Joan who would package our meat, (hah, a bit obvious with the double entendre, no!?)
who opined with a smile that our cut was unique (really like the use of opined thrown in after the childlike language use to this point)
having been the hind leg of a stillborn black sheep. (yuck - did she actually tell you this or is this an omniscient narrator!?)

All in all, really enjoyed reading this. 
Was a bit confused at times (end of stanza 1) but loved the "read out loud" quality of it, and the childlike, mainly single syllable word use in a fairly complex structure which I think you have used well. 
For me, it created a simple vision of a simple scene of a simple life- very effectively. So hope that was your intention :

RBJ