Of tumblin' skies in winter high
a hailin' stones an' daggers.
Where good a man would choose to die
a frozen where he staggers.
Who'd wear the cold when ten below,
such torments worth surmountin'?
Yet howl the wolves o'er them who do,
them men who scar the mountain.
There's blood in them thar hills, begad,
where knives and dead men greet ya.
Where packs of thugs lay wait the shout;
some fool who'd cry, "Eureka! "
Be wicked them, a liken none;
them's badass sonsabitches.
Of axes, guns an' whiskey stills
an' bodies in the ditches.
Who'd stick a feller like a hog
if sniffed a whiff of fortune.
Such wastin's when a pittance paid,
would cuss their own misfortune.
As hard as stone an' weathered worn,
from granite wrought an' moulded.
Of frozen snot an' grinder's rot,
of muskets, locked an' loaded.
Blows fierce the days, none fiercer be
when raid the scowls of winter.
Where mad be them mid yowlin' gales
where not a bear would linger.
Come night, the hooch, 'round blazin' logs
an' meaner by the bottle.
If had a say, as sure as hell,
be brawlin' in some brothel.
Get liquored up an' yellin' wild
in ructions an' beratin's.
An' thar be knives an' blood be let
an' all in for the takin's.
Beyond belief, yonside the norm,
afeared by judge an' preacher.
Be lost to men, be heathens them,
be not of man but creature.
Rave rantin' hot ’till bleary sot,
a bedded down an' wasted.
Burn low the logs where snore the dogs
in dank an' drunken hatred.
A hatin' all, most all, themselves,
of loves lost o'er the shoulder.
Who'd swear to care some brothel mare,
what love could be as colder?
Let howl the wolves o'er mornin' curs
when achin' from their slumbers.
The dampened yells, the bottles drained,
nowt left, e'en dead the embers.
-
Author:
Tony Grannell (
Online) - Published: June 14th, 2025 14:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Poetic Licence
Online)
Comments6
I was a great fan of Robert Service and memorized many of his poems, this gives that feel. Rough and rugged it speaks of the mountains and the life I love. It's rhythm and rhyme are just to my liken' A definite fave makes me homesick.
I, too, a great fan of Robert Service, few like him and none today as far as I know. When it comes to life's love, one can't beat the yonder hills, a hiking we will go. Thank you ever so much, Soren very kind of you indeed.
Do take care now,
Tony.
How beautiful language flows, carrying with it meaning and feeling. 🕊🙏🏻
I have always found meaning and feeling in the tough and rough vernacular of yore and I'm so delighted you do, too. Your words are very much appreciated.
You are in fine spirits, I trust,
Tony.
I do too but need to better master writing out in such manner! But we have you, so cheers🙏🏻🕊
Wow! An instant fave! This one grabs right from the go and sweeps you away! Wonderful job! 🌹👏
Swept away, how wonderful is that. I'm delighted. Thank you very much, Tristan.
Kind regards,
Tony
Indeed, I was. It was delightful and you mare most welcome, my friend!
Would you be very much offended if I opted out of a trip to your mountains? I'm sure the journey would be lively and full of colour, but I've decided to take up an offer of a special two week sojourn at a spa and meditation resort instead. Next time perhaps..........
Great stuff - very much enjoyed.
Hello Dave,
Yours was the last response, I read last night and I actually went to bed laughing, really!
Enjoy your sojourn and we can go trapping for pelts at a later date.
Do take care now,
Tony.
Let the wolves howl indeed. A detailed description of the good old days of tough men and cold weather. The cadence is remarkable. It reminds me of Australia's greatest poet Banjo Paterson. This poem is an excellent read.I enjoyed.It took me to a interesting world.
Clancy of the Overflow, one of my favourite poems. Thank you ever so much, David and I am delighted you enjoyed this one.
All the best,
Tony.
A beautiful write of the reality of how life was in the mountains, it was a man's world, wonderfully written and very enjoyable read
An unromantic view of mountain life of yore. I'm always happy when you drop by and it is very much appreciated.
All is well, I trust,
Tony
You are very welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.