a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Mag 177 Yukon Gold

Writing prompt by Tess Kincaid

photo by Agustin Berrocal  
The winter was long
And mean
Root cellar was empty
The miners were lean

Searching for gold
Kept them warm
But you can't eat rocks
And come to no harm

Zeke remembered
What Sam had said
Bury me where I lived
When I die you'll be fed

So Zeke buried Sam
Just where he asked
And uncovered potatoes
Zeke had stashed

A yellow potato
Named Yukon Gold
Buried by Zeke
Let the miners grow old.

24 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

clever.

Sandra said...

As Abe listened to the loud whirring noise of the spaceship as it sped upwards, he tried to contain the eggs they left behind, thinking How many ET's can I get out of these?

that is what popped in my head, not a poem, just thoughts. i rather have gold potatoes than aliens....

Other Mary said...

Ah, Yukon Gold spuds came to my mind too! I like your poem's strong rhythm and rhyme. I think it would make a good folk song, sung 'round the campfire.

Dip-Dip and the Bridge said...

What a great poem.
No matter how much money you have it will count for nothing in the end if there is no food.
Lynne x

izzy said...

I really enjoyed your poem-and it made me think about my favorite potato! thanks-

Berowne said...

I thought I'd never find a Gold potato, but a still, small voice kept urging me on: Yukon! Yukon!

Brian Miller said...

ha pretty cool story you came up with...and his fore thought as well to leave such richness to help them survive...

Little Susie Home Maker said...

I love this!! What a wonderful tale and poem! I just started following you. Looks like a fun place to visit.
Blessings,
Susie

Terri said...

Feeling that cadence girl- nice one!

LindaG said...

A really good job, Gail! :-)

labbie1 said...

My Favorite Potatoes EVER!!!! Quite a good imagination! :)

Sandee said...

Very clever indeed.

Have a fabulous Sunday. :)

Irene said...

I happen to be a potato lover and like them fried sprinkled with Herbes de Provence. What would we do without potatoes, the great fillers of stomachs? I think many people would have gone hungry without them in the past. I'm thinking especially of that painting "The Potato Eaters" by Van Gogh.

D. Jean Quarles said...

Ha! Ha! That was great!

Karen S. said...

Excellent! From the beginning I just knew you were writing about my winter! Very true to life!

Kutamun said...

Ah very good, Gail, i think the Kiwis call it a Hungi "

Marty Damon said...

Fabulous, Gail. This was inspired.

Helen said...

A great story ... I can imagine it as a song. A ballad.

Stacy Lynn said...

sounds like an old fairy tale. love the flow of the poem. very entertaining write!

Sue said...

I knew you would do well with this one. A marvelous tale.

=)

Lynne said...

Liked, . . . and the flow!

Jerry E Beuterbaugh said...

Eureka?

gautami tripathy said...

It flowed effortlessly...!!

in the shadows, let it be

~T~ said...

Oh, wonderful planning by Sam! I wonder, though, why didn't he share before he died?

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...