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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FISHING FOR WATER BUCKETS IN THE CISTERN, by                    
First Line: In the middle west there's a place of
Last Line: Peggy o'neil and I will fish for golden water buckets on the celestial shore.
Alternate Author Name(s): Fleming, A. M.
Subject(s): Memory


In the Middle West there's a place of supreme charm
Where I passed my youth on the Indian Moccasin Flower Farm.
For return of those halcyon days my heart ever yearns,
When Peggy O'Neil and I fished for water buckets in the cistern.

Sweet Peggy! whose ex-ray violet-blue eyes
On the cistern's bottom were the first to spot a prize.
She directed me just how to drop my grapple hook
On a long-sunk bucket concealed in a dark nook.

When I recovered a bucket of zinc or wood,
Peggy blushed peony red -- she understood,
Admonished me not to get overfatigued nor fret,
Her capable hands were a never-missing landing net.

Twelve buckets were recovered. A single one remained;
Several insecure holds on the bale had been obtained.
It was the first bucket that parted from the rope;
A fortnight of back-breaking endeavor, I gave up all hope.

Dear Peggy, a celestial Rose of Sharon, I could not pluck it;
I had failed to recover the elusory water bucket.
Erstwhile on first attempt it was hooked by a city cad,
Which made him solid with Peggy, her mom and her grouchy old dad.

My radio, the talkies, and mother-in-law's parties I spurn
Living in the past with Peggy, fishing for water buckets in the cistern.
As I linger at the cistern her shade is ever at my side;
Oh, the many weary years have rolled away since she, a cad's jilted sweetheart
died!

Incense to the memory of my departed loved one daily I burn;
Wearing a mourner's stole has made me taciturn.
When tribulations of this transitory existence are o'er,
Peggy O'Neil and I will fish for golden water buckets on the Celestial Shore.





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