Fiddlestick Folk

Fiddlestick Folk
©Ruth Cox


Here's how we twiddle
The time of our life:
You stroke the fiddle,
I'll finger the fife.

Wee sister wiggles
While Ma sings desire;
Li'l brother giggles,
And Pa tends the fire.

As each of us stirs
Magic of our own;
Reality blurs,
And dreams become known.

You're fishin' upstream,
Jump a riverboat;
Like freshwater bream,
Aimlessly afloat.

I'm berry pickin',
Juice quenches my thirst;
The baby's kickin',
I'm about to burst.

Pa grabs his shotgun,
Saddles up his horse;
He'll find my loved one,
Bring him back, of course.

Ma's got a weddin'
She's readyin' for;
Tears she's a sheddin'
While pacin' the floor.

Brother and sister,
They've nary a clue;
They play tongue twister,
A game tried and true.

Petticoats I don,
'Neath an off-white dress.
The door is knocked on,
Preacher's here I guess.

Once we let him in,
Totin' board of slate,
He writes with chagrin,
"How long must we wait?"

We hear horse whinny
And sound of whip crack;
Cringe for the ninny,
Pa cut him no slack.

Wood door opens wide
And you say with glee:
"All jokin' aside,
Will you marry me?"

We both say "I do."
And the preacher nods.
Ma serves up the stew
While the fire Pa prods.

You stroke the fiddle,
I'll finger the fife:
Time we now twiddle
As husband and wife.



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Written in response to Len's Prompt for Saturday Writing Essential of Gather Writing Essential:

*Write a historical fiction story (prose or poetry).