Photo: 123rfWhen I grew up in the sixties, folksinging was everywhere. I walked around town with my hand-made Mallorcan guitar slung across my back by an embroidered shoulder strap. Like other folkies, I was ready to sit down anywhere to sing and play.
The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem were very popular and I learned their songs from a little green book I still have somewhere downstairs.
One favourite was A Jug of Punch.
It was on the twenty-third of June
as I was sitting with my glass and spoon.
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
and the song he sang was a jug of punch...
In my imaginings, there was no whiskey involved. The jug of punch was made with ginger ale and fruit juice, with maybe some pineapple and orange slices, and a few strawberries for garnish.
It made a lovely picture. Ice cubes clinked in the tasty liquid, and the outside of the chubby glass pitcher was damp with condensation.
Why did the singer want a spoon?
To eat the fruit from the bottom of the glass, of course.
It was on the twenty-third of September
ReplyDeleteas I was reading Carol's Blog
nostalgically I did remember
folk songs sung on an old beach log
around the fire
moonlight choir
chasing life like a fleeting ember
as the summer fled
lead by Autumn's red
toward the snows of late December
Folk songs still inspire
faith, love and desire,
While still we chase the fleeting ember
of that long-fled bright September.
Thanks Carol... you're an inpiration.
Wow! Thanks for your comment. Just saw this now.
DeleteWow, that was a great response!
ReplyDeleteJust found it now.
Just goes to show -- poetry begets poetry.
Here's a toast to iambic pentameter and rhyme.
Thanks!
Carol