“If a house is home, family are the cement that holds everything together. ” © willowdot21.
Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 361 HOME and Weep.
This week I have chosen a Tanka for Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.
come September Swifts
dancing in the sky leave home
set for hotter climes
weaving patterns of farewell
my heart weeps and waves.
Our House. Memories.
Tonight while having a WhatsApp group chat with friends talking about old times I remembered the home I grew up in.
In the middle of a terrace, in a horse shoe surrounding a green
It was home to us all. Our safe place, the best sight ever seen.
In the winter icicles appeared on the window inside as well as out
No heating in the bedrooms so we froze without a doubt.
The backroom was cosy there was always a fire in the grate
We fought to sit at the hearth, huddling together extra heat to create .
Summer was different the windows and doors open wide
The garden full of veg and blackberries and mud we’d trail inside!
Christmas time was special everyone hanging up the glitter
Mum baking in the kitchen Dad and the boys having a sneaky bitter.
When I was little, everyone went to midnight Mass except Mum and me,
We’d stay home and dress the Christmas tree. Ready for the others on their return see.
There were so many of us yet no one was ever turned away
Whoever turned up was welcome, relative , friend, waif or stray.
Dad had an office in the front room each night he’d do his Union work
Men came for help. After his working day. His responsibilities he didn’t shirk.
There were only three bedrooms all packed to overflowing
It could be very hectic because we would not stop growing.
Four generations. So many memories, too many to share
Sadly the house is sold and closed to me, though it is still there.
We all got Married from that house, we were all were blessed
Our Parents did not have much but they always did their best.
Funerals Parties and reunions it was always the place to meet
For over sixty years it made our lives complete.
In the middle of a terrace, in a horseshoe surrounding a green
It was home to us all. Our safe place , the best sight ever seen
Thursday photo prompt: Worn #writephoto
This week’s prompt for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto ~ Worn
For visually challenged writers, the image shows deeply worn stone steps, scattered with plants growing in the cracks, leading up to a blue-painted door.
Before Cissey died she stood in the ginnel looking up at doors. Nothing had changed. The steps they used to climb up and down to school, to work to home. Still there worn and full of stories. When babies the pram would be stood at the bottom of the steps and the door was left open so a watchful eye was kept.
As Children they’d perch on the steps and shell the peas and peel carrots and potatoes. Each would have a job. The house was small for a family of ten so often they spilled over on to the steps. Noisy, rowdy, quiet pensive, laughing crying all life flowed out of the two up two down housr on to the steps.
One by one they left the safety of the home, walked down the steps either with Dad or Mum or alone to set up a new life. Some went far some just to another street.
They always came back, for birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, christenings, Christmas and funerals. Always at any event they spilled out on to the steps.
As time past the traffic on the steps become less yet somehow the indents looked accentuated deeper worn. Over the years the generations grew until there was no one left to truly know the significance of the worn steps. Who’s feet had left their mark on history.
Sell it the young ones said, not knowing the reasons for the worn steps. They painted the door, they painted the railings, they thought about repairing the steps but left them.
The for sale sign went up, people came to see the house. They saw the potential, they saw the new paint, the newly added kitchen and bathroom. They didn’t see the generations of family on the steps so many joys and dramas.
Nobody saw them but a special few felt them on the worn out steps. One couple saw them too and they bought the house and the steps.
Today out the blue my eldest sister sent me a photo she had take of our family outside our home in London. Circa 1956 ! It was such a lovely surprise and it really took me back!
As Teresa was taking the photo and not visible I asked her to find another one but with her in it! She did, this time one of the twins was absent as she was taking the photo ! I look a little older in this one so I reckon it is circa 1958.
Top photo : Elder Brother T with his tongue out,Mum, , Dear Mary now deceased, Elder brother’s Twin F, Brother JP, Dad and me.
Bottom photo: Eldest sister Tess, brother T in long trousers this time, a cousin, brother JP with his tongue out this time, Mary peeping out at the back , another cousin and then me looking grumpy!!
I remember the days of black and white
When we were taught wrong from right .
Endless days of love while growing up
Here I drink from yesterday’s cup.
Here we are in days gone by
My those years spread their wings and fly.
Hot dinners ,comfort in the family fold
Things to remember when we get old.
Someone is missing, sister Tess,
With the camera she catches us in time
Come good or ill,all of us, lives entwine
This made me what I am I guess.
Days were so much simpler then
I bet you think I have rose tinted glasses on
I know you do but you are wrong!
Muted Monday: Night Journey
JusJoJan : Home made Home grown!
I have absolutely no idea what to blog about tonight
My muse has fled left me high and dry and that’s not right!
Today has been a very busy one
We went to help our daughter in law and our youngest son.
A lovely house they have bought but there is so much to do
As my dad always said many hands make light work, and that is true!
The work is all very nearly done and it it looks a lot like home
There is also a baby on the way , home made and home grown!
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