There is beauty in stabilised ruins;
rusting scaffolds, prickling hessian,
and summer rooms vapoury drapery
limp before damp frosted glass.
I can’t believe everything’s still here.
Daphne permeates naked timbers
porous cracked and powdery bricks;
roils in on floor draughts up dingy passage ways
drawn by cold chimneys to each room.
I can’t believe summer hasn’t taken them.
I can’t believe the roof still stands
under four seasons of leaves; from
that old walnut, bare, girdled tightly by ivy
murdered by the merciful sun last season,
it would offer up sweet fruits
if only someone would beat the cockatoos.
I lean into the garden to gather up jonquils
shiver to feel this old place was never left alone.
I can almost smell raisin toast, cinnamon,
and hear those children excited by brand new lambs,
but the breeze nipped the back of my neck, tucking memories
right back to yesterday when I forgot.
But I remembered enough to pick the jonquils,
and bring them to you.
I was with a friend of mine yesterday and drove past a place Ive not stopped at for a number of years now, it makes me a little sad to see such a lovely historical stucco, brick and timber farm house go to ruin, you could play cricket in the hallway its so big.. Its been empty for years now but I remember when it wasnt.. Anyhow we were nosy and went out back where the big old walnut tree shades the back door and I turned the handle.. No one locks anything around here, and so of course it creaked open.. we wandered in and it was as I remembered, and believe it or not still furnished.. after all this time no one has gone near the place, I guess it will all be claimed by time in time. Funny how the mind drifts to pleasantries.
My Review
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Di, this is touching and really imparts a feeling of subtle sadness,
memories and thinking about those places, forgotten by time,
rusting, and its that beauty, that haunting ambience of stillness,
that triggers not forgotten by the heart, I think your wording
is brilliant, simply beautiful, I shall find myself coming back to this poem.
The imagery is amazing, the image you paint is so real i feel like i am in a painting or a picture of the place.
Its sad, but in a sweet, reminescent way, and it sounds like a beautiful place.
I absolutely LOVE the feeling in the last two stanza's. It reminds me of my moms mother and mid spring sundays out walking the pastures.
There is a place like this near my grandpoppa's, a nice small two room cabin, cozy and worn and full of that feeling of memories long lost by the decendents of the ones that once lived in it. Last time i was there, there was still a set of fire irons and the remnants of a wooden chair with woven wicker seat. Its covered in kudzu and morning glory now, and moon flowers and scupernongs are growing through the two windows from the front porch.
very vivid. I can perfectly imagine this scene. It's a scene of beauty and sadness or maybe it's the beauty in the sadness? I live next to an old, old house that's close to a hundred years old and it's in horrible condition. Maybe I should right about it or would that be copying your good idea?
Di, this is touching and really imparts a feeling of subtle sadness,
memories and thinking about those places, forgotten by time,
rusting, and its that beauty, that haunting ambience of stillness,
that triggers not forgotten by the heart, I think your wording
is brilliant, simply beautiful, I shall find myself coming back to this poem.
nostalgic review of the past beautifully descriptive. So true to life. Yesterday is a different world you can only return to in memory.
Well written poetic prose Enjoyable read