Treasure Island

John Rickell

(I November 1931 / York)

Barmaid


Step down into the parlour
deep window sill and flowers
early afternoon, most are drunk
just as it should on Sunday.
She smiles bold, direct
holds her own each day
'Guinness please', she pulls,
her arms suntanned and strong
she knows her worth,
draws the shamrock, smiles
and melts our hearts
her heavy blouse says all.
Barmaid here for many years
her maidenhood long since gone
and many times, the easy life
of take it as it comes
along the Marches counties
a long tradition, in her genes
we too know the rules....
since on our mothers' knees,
her hips are broad, so her mind
her beauty shames the hills
this is woman at her best
two kids, a dog, and a husband
proud and jealous, vigilant
sitting at the bar.

Submitted: Thursday, November 07, 2013
Edited: Friday, November 08, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Barmaid by John Rickell )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. When is tomorrow, Victor Cruickshank
  2. This Special Gift, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  3. Sonnet.3. Our Home, Valsa George
  4. Dreaming Feelings, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  5. Perfection is unattainable, Victor Cruickshank
  6. Sorry I came but I must come, Victor Cruickshank
  7. Accepting You, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  8. No Survivors, Victor Cruickshank
  9. Accumulation Of Essence, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  10. When, Victor Cruickshank

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]