Turning the Clock Back

sometimes i return to that cold

back bedroom on the first floor of

my grandparent's old terraced home

where my legs fidget in bed

as my younger sister dreams

soundly beneath rose candlewick

while i count on my abacus fingers

tube trains as they rattle along

electric rails on top of tall arches

where brickwork is blackened by

smog in the shade of the oldest tree

in a postage stamp garden

flooding the room with false light

shaking the sash windows

twitching the jaundiced net curtains

out of their slumber while i try

my hardest to fall like Alice  down

the rabbit hole into wonderland

and eventually ..........into sleep

Reviews

[Neville]

one does not need an imagination to find oneself transported somehow to that cold back bedroom on the first floor of some old terraced house .. had you not mentioned your grandparents though, I could have sworn it was 24 spencer bridge Rd .. and my younger brother beneath the rose candlewick ..

Neville

[Chris Shaw]

The bedroom may have been cold but the memories couldn't have been warmer. A comfort zone. Thank you Neville. Pleased you could relate and in a happy way.

Chris

[W. Barrett Munn]

Chris, I think you've done a wonderful job of capturing child-like language and thoughts that takes the reader effortlessly back in time. Really a pleasant read. Thank you and congrats.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you fir your encouragement and support. Pleased you enjoyed this memory of mine.

Chris

[Stella Armour]

Isn't it strange how long forgotten childhood things tend to come back quite vividly as we get older.

Perhaps we just have more to to allow memories to surface..

[Chris Shaw]

Yes Stella some of these memories come back with such clarity. Pleased you stopped by.

Chris

[cheyenne s garcia]

Loved this piece. Great to read. Well done.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Cheyenne forcstopping by. You are appreciated.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I slept at my Granma's place in Jersey...it was a two story walkup....
everything then was walkup.
there was a certain scent to the place I didn't exactly understand...made me a little scared but a little secure at the same time.
My sister in the next room...
Your poem takes me back....I hear subways in my own postage stamp garden...I just love that phrase...
this is exceptional work....
as is Earth's Salt...
the location may be different within this poem, but the poem itself is universal...
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks J for stopping by. So pleased you enjoyed this one. I put some effort into it.
read moreMany thanks J for stopping by. So pleased you enjoyed this one. I put some effort into it.

Chris

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

The dreamlike quality to this piece is captivating. It brings to mind my own reminiscence of past childhood. I had the misfortune of sleeping on a top bunk of a bunkbed. With my younger brother sleeping down below. It was a running joke in the family who would guess what night they would hear me fall to the ground in the late night hours. I tended to move a lot in my sleep as a child. My sleep was always restless. I so enjoyed the images you painted in words. Can't tell you enough how many times I have seen the same thing. Night has to it a poetry all its own. And you have captured it so well, Chris. Wonderful work.

[Chris Shaw]

I have always been a restless sleeper Carlos. Thank you so much for sharing your own childhood. This one was written in the pre dawn hours. I appreciate you checking in.

Chris

[Bryan Sefton]

I love this. I too slept at my grandmother's house with my brother but in the same bed. The rest of this lovely poem I have to visualise which is no trouble at all. Very nostalgic to me..

[Chris Shaw]

Really pleased you stopped by to review this piece Bryan. Thank you so much.

Chris