The old house dreams they are still there

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Mic
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Sun Jul 05, 2015 2:22 pm

At the back bedroom window,
the eldest watches as dad
ties a rope-swing to the elm.

She clocks the tree’s bone-white roots,
good footholds for the scramble up the slope,

and imagines the view again,
the way it stretches across the valley
into small tree-topped rumps of mountain.

The little ones giggle
and squabble next door,
jeans rolled-up

to trample shirts and socks
in a knee-deep bath of water —
like making wine, mum tells them.

Later, when the rain stops,
the children will swing to their highest points
- and jump.







Original


At the back bedroom window,
the girl watches as father
ties a rope-swing to the elm.

She notes the tree’s bone-white roots,
good footholds for the scramble up the slope,

and imagines the view again,
the way it stretches across a valley
into small tree-topped rumps of mountain.

The little ones giggle
and squabble next door,
jeans rolled-up

to trample shirts and socks
in a knee-deep bath of water —
like making wine, mother tells them.

Later, when the rain stops,
the children swing to their highest points
- and jump.
Last edited by Mic on Mon Jul 06, 2015 12:00 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you" - Rumi
Macavity
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Sun Jul 05, 2015 8:51 pm

The little ones giggle
and squabble next door,
jeans rolled-up

to trample shirts and socks
in a knee-deep bath of water -
like making wine, mother tells them.
Cute scene and I buy into the maternal manipulation that keeps the kids occupied...making 'mischief' fun.

all the best

mac
ray miller
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 10:29 am

Nice poem, evocative, good line this

into small tree-topped rumps of mountain.

I prefer notes to clocks. Clocks, in this sense, brings to my mind wide boys, small-time hoodlums - but I had a chequered youth.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
Suzanne
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 10:50 am

Nice memory . Really liked the ending.

I stumbled on clocks, too.

A nice poem that could be given as a gift.
Suzanne
brianedwards
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 11:09 am

Well, I kinda like clocks. But maybe spots, or simply sees? Notes definitely feels wrong to me. Children don't note.

B.
Arian
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 6:30 pm

There's a 'fond-memory' feeling to it that I like, and the first half is particularly good. I'm agnostic on clocks, but can't help feeling that there's a more effective word, somewhere.

The title's a bit awkward, not to say clumsy, I'd say. Still, a nit - nice piece.

Cheers
peter
David
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 7:12 pm

ray miller wrote:Clocks, in this sense, brings to my mind wide boys, small-time hoodlums
Agreed. Seems to be out of the wrong lexicon for the poem. Which I really like. (But I agree with Brian about notes as well.)

I like the title! It's cumbersome, but comfortable.

Jumping again, eh? The jump seems to be an important part of your personal metaphysics, Michaela. That seems perfectly sound to me. Something to do with memory, experience, life itself ... what did I leave out?

Cheers

David
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Mon Jul 06, 2015 8:43 pm

enjoyed this a lot :)

painting pretty pictures of the sorts of things i used to do as a kiddie :)

well penned and well thought out :)

donna
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