Blueberries Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A| 'You ought to have seen what I saw on my way To the village through Mortenson's pasture to day Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb Real sky blue and heavy and ready to drum In the cavernous pail of the first one to come And all ripe together not some of them green And some of them ripe You ought to have seen ' 'I don't know what part of the pasture you mean ' 'You know where they cut off the woods let me see It was two years ago or no can it be No longer than that and the following fall The fire ran and burned it all up but the wall ' 'Why there hasn't been time for the bushes to grow That's always the way with the blueberries though There may not have been the ghost of a sign Of them anywhere under the shade of the pine But get the pine out of the way you may burn The pasture all over until not a fern Or grass blade is left not to mention a stick And presto they're up all around you as thick And hard to explain as a conjuror's trick ' 'It must be on charcoal they fatten their fruit I taste in them sometimes the flavour of soot And after all really they're ebony skinned The blue's but a mist from the breath of the wind A tarnish that goes at a touch of the hand And less than the tan with which pickers are tanned ' 'Does Mortenson know what he has do you think ' 'He may and not care and so leave the chewink To gather them for him you know what he is He won't make the fact that they're rightfully his An excuse for keeping us other folk out ' 'I wonder you didn't see Loren about ' 'The best of it was that I did Do you know I was just getting through what the field had to show And over the wall and into the road When who should come by with a democrat load Of all the young chattering Lorens alive But Loren the fatherly out for a drive ' 'He saw you then What did he do Did he frown ' 'He just kept nodding his head up and down You know how politely he always goes by But he thought a big thought I could tell by his eye Which being expressed might be this in effect 'I have left those there berries I shrewdly suspect To ripen too long I am greatly to blame '' 'He's a thriftier person than some I could name ' 'He seems to be thrifty and hasn't he need With the mouths of all those young Lorens to feed He has brought them all up on wild berries they say Like birds They store a great many away They eat them the year round and those they don't eat They sell in the store and buy shoes for their feet ' 'Who cares what they say It's a nice way to live Just taking what Nature is willing to give Not forcing her hand with harrow and plow ' 'I wish you had seen his perpetual bow And the air of the youngsters Not one of them turned And they looked so solemn absurdly concerned ' 'I wish I knew half what the flock of them know Of where all the berries and other things grow Cranberries in bogs and raspberries on top Of the boulder strewn mountain and when they will crop I met them one day and each had a flower Stuck into his berries as fresh as a shower Some strange kind they told me it hadn't a name ' 'I've told you how once not long after we came I almost provoked poor Loren to mirth By going to him of all people on earth To ask if he knew any fruit to be had For the picking The rascal he said he'd be glad To tell if he knew But the year had been bad There had been some berries but those were all gone He didn't say where they had been He went on 'I'm sure I'm sure' as polite as could be He spoke to his wife in the door 'Let me see Mame we don't know any good berrying place ' It was all he could do to keep a straight face 'If he thinks all the fruit that grows wild is for him He'll find he's mistaken See here for a whim We'll pick in the Mortensons' pasture this year We'll go in the morning that is if it's clear And the sun shines out warm the vines must be wet It's so long since I picked I almost forget How we used to pick berries we took one look round Then sank out of sight like trolls underground And saw nothing more of each other or heard Unless when you said I was keeping a bird Away from its nest and I said it was you 'Well one of us is ' For complaining it flew Around and around us And then for a while We picked till I feared you had wandered a mile And I thought I had lost you I lifted a shout Too loud for the distance you were it turned out For when you made answer your voice was as low As talking you stood up beside me you know ' 'We sha'n't have the place to ourselves to enjoy Not likely when all the young Lorens deploy They'll be there to morrow or even to night They won't be too friendly they may be polite To people they look on as having no right To pick where they're picking But we won't complain You ought to have seen how it looked in the rain The fruit mixed with water in layers of leaves Like two kinds of jewels a vision for thieves ' | A |
Robert Frost
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