Strings

a story poem about a couple growing old together, dying without children, they were my godparents

growing old together

they were like the pond’s greenish water

where they were fishing on either sunny or rainy days

sometimes playing string hand games

with threads deftly entangled over the wedding rings

unwinding quickly  like his short and tender whistle

calling her from afar while she answered the same

in the afternoon they were sipping coffee under the vine arcade

adding gradually more pepper and lovage in their soup

more red paint on their Easter eggs

 

there was a too tall fir in the backyard

hiding a small golden apple tree

the fruit of which they never tasted

usually they spent their time in the front garden

he stretching strings for vegetable beds always straight

she planting round small onion bulbs

they were keeping in mind every tomato growing mellow

or how heavy was the gooseberry how grubby were bergamot pears

counting everything

apart from winters when she was knitting bootees

their footsteps were softer on the floor

they were gathering in the drawers old photographs

expired seed envelopes and more and more dried clover threads

for unknown reasons they used to find so often

four leaves clover in the garden

 

she had green eyes like a murky sea

he had warm chocolate eyes

the hair of both was turning gray very slowly

that dark fir kept much freshness

a small fir sapling started to grow under it

hand in hand they were stepping deeper in their gum boots

mole crickets were showing their heads between tomatoes

wasps were gathering over dessert grapes

pegs used for strings were rotting

like embers taken out too early from the fireplace

 

their mother is still counting years

painting her saints icons

Author's Note

lovage is popular aromatic herb often used in my country

Reviews

[zainul]

Dear Cristina,
I am overwhelmed by the sad story of the hard working couple who lived in this world honestly.They were not blessed with any children that is very true.But they were blessed by the affection of their mother.
I am simply moved by the words and rhyming pattern that make me shiver even after
the reading is over.
I respect you for sharing the real story and making me a member of the extended family.
I pray for the eternal peace of the loving souls.
Best regards,
Zainul

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

Many thanks for your wonderful review zainul.

[zainul]

Thank you too for the lovely gesture.

[Marie]

Very good...sad at the end, but sweet.

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

Thank you very much Marie.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Absolutely masterful description of the couple's life and your keen observations of them. You tell so much by noticing all the details of how they kept their garden and surroundings and how as they aged they could no longer do all that they had. This picture is painted with tenderness, and is deeply touching. Beautifully written and memorable.

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

You understood perfectly my aim and my feelings in this poem. I was deeply touched by this story and I loved my godparents with all my heart.
Many thanks for your kind comment.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Beautifully done...your love came through.