Sorry this didn't work out as well as hoped, the formating screwed up and I couldn't use the real picture that inspired it...the old homestead of my Aunt and Uncle's farm but here it is anyway..
Listen
Listen close
Listen to the past again
Listen and you’ll hear the laughter
Listen and you’ll hear children’s joy and tears
Listen and you’ll hear the whispers of love in the bedrooms
Listen as the creaks speak of the glory days of family, love and laughter
Listen as the truck takes the last of the home from the house
We grow and look forward, then it seems we look back with just as much fervor. I wouldn't do anything to this one. The print lightening up quiets us down to listen. Really it's a lovely thing.
Fee,
This poem made me think of the old home place, my sister's and brother's as we were kids. Those were the days. If only we could go back and do all again. Fantastic write.
Bittersweet!
Sounds like my meomories of the Grandparents old farm when they sold it.
Went back after some years, it had all been bulldozed, the house burnt and gutted, and as i walked through the frame it was too much.
This old house doesn't need to talk with the beauty of your wisdom and visuals to guide us. If it could, it would sing thanks with every creaking board in unison. Well done sweet Free.
Love,
Susan
Fee,
This is OUTSTANDING, my friend. There's a house across from mine that has been empty for a long time. The owners were elderly when I met them. They raised a family there, had Sunday get togethers there every Sunday for their married children and sometimes even the pastor of their church would stop in for a bite. The house was alive with activity and laughter every day. I spent alot of time there since I was caregiver for them for six years. The man died of lung cancer, and the wife died three yrs later of alzhiemers. All laughter stopped. The house is quiet now. I look at the house from my front porch and think of all the life and breath it had at one time... all gone now. Thanks for sharing this with us Fee, and for taking me back one more time.
Your words painted a very
Moving scene old house where love and laughter
live in this outstanding Write
Excellent Imagery and flow!!
I love the sounds of love!!
Love And Peace to You Always..Morning Star
This is exceptional Fee~
Stirs the soul...
I have a soft spot for old homesteads and I'm a nostaglgia maniac to boot...I once bought an old home built back in the 1800's, it sat majesticly in her Queen Anne style, among the cobblestone streets of St. Augustine's historic district. After the papers were signed and I really had the big ole' place to myself, I went exploring!
Room after room I could "feel" its past...a peaceful house... Inside the linen closet were the signatures of the children of the family that owned the house since the home was built. I was the second owner!
I never painted over them...
Oh the wonders found while digging a hole in the yard once, to plant a guava tree... I'd found old perfume bottles and a silver bowl, little pop bottles...I had to make the decision either to ecavate for hidden treasures or just plant the tree...I planted the tree! :)
...so glad I stopped by to "Listen, Listen Close"
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Reviewed by Miss Pandora (Reader)
Reviewed on March 27, 2007
A moving scene you paint with your words of echoes from the past that left me reflecting on my own memories. I love how you laid out your poetry in this too, looks like a teardrop...clever stuff. Hugs Panda :)
This is excellent, loved the flow and moood of this poem, outstanding.
Reindeer
Reviewed by LadyJtalks LadyJzTalkZone (Reader)
Reviewed on March 27, 2007
Listening to old house where love lived is a joy many can not know in this days. Those where generation lived and memories where made. It must have been a special place. Lady J
Reviewed by Monette Bebow-Reinhard (Reader)
Reviewed on March 27, 2007
A beautiful reflection on the memories of the past. Thanks!
Old houses capture pleasant memories of my own Grandfather's, where the floors creaked and certain smells made me feel wrapped in love...well done, my friend.
Your poem is so very beautiful, floating on a pond of bittersweet waters...Don't know where that came from, it's just an image that came to mind after reading this...Beautiful!
Oh my, Fee, you're sure to touch a lot of hearts with this write. I know you did touch mine. Such lovely and bittersweet memories you've brought to the fore. An excellent and poignant poem.
Love,
CJ
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Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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~hugs~
Karen
I could SEE!
Wonderfully written Sweet Fee!
WArmly, Warrior Sheeeoox
Wendi
We grow and look forward, then it seems we look back with just as much fervor. I wouldn't do anything to this one. The print lightening up quiets us down to listen. Really it's a lovely thing.
hugs,
Kathy
simon b
This poem made me think of the old home place, my sister's and brother's as we were kids. Those were the days. If only we could go back and do all again. Fantastic write.
Sounds like my meomories of the Grandparents old farm when they sold it.
Went back after some years, it had all been bulldozed, the house burnt and gutted, and as i walked through the frame it was too much.
yes great depth here.
Hugs Fee
Ch'eriexx
Love,
Susan
This is OUTSTANDING, my friend. There's a house across from mine that has been empty for a long time. The owners were elderly when I met them. They raised a family there, had Sunday get togethers there every Sunday for their married children and sometimes even the pastor of their church would stop in for a bite. The house was alive with activity and laughter every day. I spent alot of time there since I was caregiver for them for six years. The man died of lung cancer, and the wife died three yrs later of alzhiemers. All laughter stopped. The house is quiet now. I look at the house from my front porch and think of all the life and breath it had at one time... all gone now. Thanks for sharing this with us Fee, and for taking me back one more time.
Many blessings and love,
~Linda
Moving scene old house where love and laughter
live in this outstanding Write
Excellent Imagery and flow!!
I love the sounds of love!!
Love And Peace to You Always..Morning Star
Love Tinka
Stirs the soul...
I have a soft spot for old homesteads and I'm a nostaglgia maniac to boot...I once bought an old home built back in the 1800's, it sat majesticly in her Queen Anne style, among the cobblestone streets of St. Augustine's historic district. After the papers were signed and I really had the big ole' place to myself, I went exploring!
Room after room I could "feel" its past...a peaceful house... Inside the linen closet were the signatures of the children of the family that owned the house since the home was built. I was the second owner!
I never painted over them...
Oh the wonders found while digging a hole in the yard once, to plant a guava tree... I'd found old perfume bottles and a silver bowl, little pop bottles...I had to make the decision either to ecavate for hidden treasures or just plant the tree...I planted the tree! :)
...so glad I stopped by to "Listen, Listen Close"
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Reindeer
Old houses capture pleasant memories of my own Grandfather's, where the floors creaked and certain smells made me feel wrapped in love...well done, my friend.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Thank you, Love your Cuz, Rose XOXO
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Love,
CJ