It remains with dreams
of luscious greens
in a far off place,
not in this space or time;
open the door,
listen to the squeak
of metal sticking
a slight adjustment
and its old bones
slide – cr cr cr cr creak.
Warm moist air
billows through your body,
the scent of a laundry
slides up nostrils
bringing a pigeon coo
of a memory,
gone before it’s caught…
Slide the door
shut behind you,
keep the warmth
contained within
against the bleak
no man’s land outside.
Spanish moss
eases your creased forehead,
orchids dance like
butterflies,
in a corner
fragrant pods
ooze the scent of vanilla,
snap one off,
sneak it in your pocket;
remember when
you stood upon chair
to reach the kitchen table
scrapping precious
fragrant black paste
with a blunted knife
and then the churning of
the cream, breaking eggs
to collect the suns inside,
and the black paste
made speckles
in golden ice-cream
one endless summer’s day.
Two tears form
in the corners of each eye
and race to drip
off your chin,
you blow your nose and shrug,
you turn to leave,
the door’s creaks
recite an ode
to the vanilla pod
nestled safe
inside a roomy pocket.
A desolate glare outside,
you quint as the cold air
shakes your scalp;
again you blow your nose,
a defiant trumpet call,
you walk past broken bottles,
grey clay sticking to your shoes,
the ridges of the pod
feel warm as your finger tips
recollect tracing grandma’s wrinkles.
smiles…lots of warmth in this…from the smell of laundry to vanilla to the though of cooking as a kid…makes for a nice contrast to the cold and grit you bring the night…memories will keep you warm…smiles.
Thank you – memories can bring comfort 🙂
Aww….happy memories, shared. Very poignant. Lovely.
Thank you 🙂 I appreciate your visit
Wonderful poem from title to finish. Beautiful smells and textures, and the whole idea of memories – from doorways to pockets to vanilla very compelling. k.
Thank you so much 🙂
Memories lyng dormant…coming to life, aromas, textures, beautifully executed, M…I love this poem :))
Thank you dear friend – I always feel happy when you like my poems 🙂
Love how you capture warm moments from this desolate scene…loved the pigeon coo of a memory and the chance to walk through this memory, as said above beautifully executed…a truly wonderful poem.
Thank you – I wanted the poem to go into the glasshouse … and then back outside …
You brought it to life, vividly and expertly
Thank you 🙂
oh, I am loving the pigeon coo of memory…just lovely. Wonderful read!
Pleased the pigeon coo took your fancy
i love your gorgeous imagery and the precious warmth you convey with your soft memories. this is luscious. mmmm the vanilla pod.
So pleased the vanilla pod resonated with you 🙂
oh my…you brought it so alive with your vivid inclusion of scent and taste that the desolation afterwards can be felt even more..
So glad you got the desolation – I love the bleakness of the photograph
Use of full range of senses bring this moment alive when the now clashes with the then in the narrator’s mind
Thank you John, the then of memories can transport us 🙂
this is gorgeous, a treat for all the senses.
“against the bleak
no man’s land outside.” wonderfully put. a great poem.
Such a wonderful reminiscence that stirred all my senses, including sadness followed by the reassuring warmth of grandma’s wrinkles. Step into the shell of our past & feel the pulse of joy as we allow those memories to drip into our soul … beautiful, Marsha 🙂
Thank you Peter – I find it fascinating the way memories can well up when we are in need of comfort
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Love the scent and sounds of sad memories ~ Keep them warm in your pockets ~ Enjoyed your lovely share ~
You have taken the picture and written a beautiful story! I enjoyed your capture.
So melancholic and tender… The contrast of the days-gone-by remembered and the present bring the feelings in sharper. I love this.
Gayle ~
Loved loved reading this, Marsha. Your writing here is brilliant. It is a poem and it is a story. Your sense of setting is superb! And vanilla is indeed something warm for the soul. May you always have a vanilla pod in your pocket for a rainy day. 🙂
EMERALD SKIES
As a rockstar says
It’s a long way to the top
Especially when top’s at the bottom
In the upside down law country
As an old man says
Lots of ways are going on top of the hill
But not so many climbers
On these desert trails
Clouds and ravens walk
Through images and sounds
Perfumes and smells as a scarf
Like some sovereign blazing star
This is beautiful and it teems with glorious lines and images–a delight!
Affecting and evocative.
This is absolutely fascinating work!!! The inside – outside relationship & the transition is just superb!!! and the last two nostalgic lines: “feel warm as your finger tips/ recollect tracing grandma’s wrinkles.” Brilliant indeed!!!