Wild Peaches Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCCBBCCB DEDFFE GHHGGHHG CCCIIC JKKJKKJ LMNLMN OPQOOPPO CORCOR

A
-
When the world turns completely upside downB
You say we'll emigrate to the Eastern ShoreC
Aboard a river boat from BaltimoreC
We'll live among wild peach trees miles from townB
You'll wear a coonskin cap and I a gownB
Homespun dyed butternut's dark gold colourC
Lost like your lotus eating ancestorC
We'll swim in milk and honey till we drownB
-
The winter will be short the summer longD
The autumn amber hued sunny and hotE
Tasting of cider and of scuppernongD
All seasons sweet but autumn best of allF
The squirrels in their silver fur will fallF
Like falling leaves like fruit before your shotE
-
-
-
The autumn frosts will lie upon the grassG
Like bloom on grapes of purple brown and goldH
The misted early mornings will be coldH
The little puddles will be roofed with glassG
The sun which burns from copper into brassG
Melts these at noon and makes the boys unfoldH
Their knitted mufflers full as they can holdH
Fat pockets dribble chestnuts as they passG
-
Peaches grow wild and pigs can live in cloverC
A barrel of salted herrings lasts a yearC
The spring begins before the winter's overC
By February you may find the skinsI
Of garter snakes and water moccasinsI
Dwindled and harsh dead white and cloudy clearC
-
-
-
When April pours the colours of a shellJ
Upon the hills when every little creekK
Is shot with silver from the ChesapeakeK
In shoals new minted by the ocean swellJ
When strawberries go begging and the sleekK
Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beakK
We shall live well we shall live very wellJ
-
The months between the cherries and the peachesL
Are brimming cornucopias which spillM
Fruits red and purple sombre bloomed and blackN
Then down rich fields and frosty river beachesL
We'll trample bright persimmons while you killM
Bronze partridge speckled quail and canvasbackN
-
-
-
Down to the Puritan marrow of my bonesO
There's something in this richness that I hateP
I love the look austere immaculateQ
Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotonesO
There's something in my very blood that ownsO
Bare hills cold silver on a sky of slateP
A thread of water churned to milky spateP
Streaming through slanted pastures fenced with stonesO
-
I love those skies thin blue or snowy grayC
Those fields sparse planted rendering meagre sheavesO
That spring briefer than apple blossom's breathR
Summer so much too beautiful to stayC
Swift autumn like a bonfire of leavesO
And sleepy winter like the sleep of deathR

Elinor Morton Wylie



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