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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
| Ballad of High Noon "Do not forsake me oh my darling" Tex Ritter 1952 Association: my father The 1950s had lots of western cowboy movies. My father loved them. This was one of the few that wasn't just about shoot'm'up. The song in various permutations ran throughout the entire 2 hours ... and you knew what time it was because a clock was in every scene keeping the time for you! I came to admire the movie later in my life, but the music goes back to my earliest childhood when good-guys/bad-guys and black/white absolutist thinking was accepted. This movie blurs the lines a bit, and honor and loyalty come to the fore. A bit subversive in many ways. Tell me: at what hour will we meet again? on which sunny day? this life time? will we ever? (22 syllable cinquain: 2/8/6/4/2) A gruesome poem  I found in an entry "Last Supper"  :Last supper They feast tonight, flee before dawn's light. Those just hatched glow red. They're well fed, unaware their first is their last. They'll die after the cock crows once, before it crows twice. High Noon, their End of Time, looms lethal. But tonight they attend the family supper: mother, siblings, uncle. Spread out like a smørgåsbord, they feast on me. © Kåre Enga 2014.noviembre.8 In "One mile closer to Omaha" I wrote:I write different types of poems. Different forms and different themes. I sketched part of a Father's Day poem today, wrote one about a fasting vampire, too. Recently, about being inside or outside a group or society, notes about movies (High Noon is one), loss (a common theme), about my ephemera (my writing), pennies (as seen in the eyes of future fishermen), doubts at nighttime. I've written a couple hundred cinquains. Dabbled with tritinas and other forms. I write. What can I say. Lyrics: Do not forsake me, oh my darlin' On this, our weddin' day Do not forsake me, oh my darlin' Wait, wait along I do not know what fate awaits me I only know I must be brave And I must face a man who hates me Or lie a coward, a craven coward Or lie a coward in my grave Oh, to be torn 'twixt love and duty S'posin' I lose my fair-haired beauty Look at that big hand move along Nearin' high noon He made a vow while in state prison Vowed it would be my life or his'n I'm not afraid of death but oh What will I do if you leave me? Do not forsake me, oh my darlin' You made that promise as a bride Do not forsake me, oh my darlin' Although you're grievin', don't think of leavin' Now that I need you by my side Wait along, (wait along) wait along Wait along, wait along (Wait along, wait along, wait along, wait along) In:
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