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> From: My Place [free verse], From Topic ID: 14842
post Feb 17 11, 14:56
Post #1

Ornate Oracle

Group: Gold Member
Posts: 19,000
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori

My Place

A place called Yesterday…
where more and more of those
who grew up with me, now
have come to live. It’s there
my sturdy house stands proudly still.
My father spawned it after WWII
of Northwest Douglas-fir,
much like the tyke he planted
way up on the Heights
called Roosevelt, some time
near 1930 – looming now
more than 200 feet above
the sidewalk he initialed.

It is crumbling now, perhaps
to tumble down into the broad
Puyallup Valley, stopping by
to visit Western Washington State Fair
if anyone is there, continue
down the River to the Puget Sound.
That's where we'd visit sometimes
on brisk summer days, go through the old
aquarium, which now is gone,
replaced by one that’s beautiful
but not as welcoming
as that of yore had been.

The Point Defiance Park and Zoo
remind me still that it’s okay
to stand defying all who come
to visit my old house... then say,
"Come in."
Its nails and bolts, now 65 years old
hold it together fast. It’s slow
to moan, but does complain
when winter winds blow hard.
It sways, as if reminded
of some dark or precious thing it hid…
long-since forgotten, now recalled
in tears it daubs, if awkwardly
as quickly as it can.

Whatever hinges that can move
at all, now creak, protesting
every opening, though welcoming
each guest – a wink where once
a smile lit up some room;
now shaded windows let in
little light through pitted panes
that sag, distorting images
of evergreens, whose scents
stretch hard to overpower
the must that age has left.

© MLee Dickens'son 2011


Slow down; things will go faster!

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post Feb 3 17, 01:28
Post #2

Ornate Oracle
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Group: Praetorian
Posts: 9,220
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting

Well, I found my answer, Daniel, so I've posted it again. It's ended up in a new thread, don't know how to fix that. sun.gif

No sign of your poem anywhere else, must be off to bed now,
Best, Syl butterfly.gif
PS: I'm really tired of being the only Mod around. I know that Eisa has not been well, but surely the whole lot can't be AWOL. Sad. I have Fibromyalgia and MCS, but despite the sharp pain and discomfort, I find poetry websites very enjoyable as well as therapeutical. Bye again!
PS2: I shall have to click on the links in your poem again, I remember I had a great time, tx for that!


Mis temas favoritos

The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.

"There is no life higher than the grasstops
Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind
Pours by like destiny, bending
Everything in one direction."

Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights.

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!

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