Capturing Garden Memories

Cherry

By skinner_jennifer

Thu, 13 May 2021
  • 3268 reads
22 comments
 

Mum's secret dreamy flowers settle gently on my mind,

her cooled murmur of breath hidden, yet garnished with

droplets from spring showers that cling like peaceful

sprinkles of wisdom, such sweeping visions expressed

like reflections of ageless allure; but then flurried

blossom petals swiftly airborne plunge to floor.

 

I hear soft muted voices, chatter from some radio,

it creeps up on untamed current of air; reaching my

bedroom window, neighbour though elderly she

maybe, cast a distant spell...a memory, sits at

garden table potting plants on such a windy day,

I think! How brave; as she glances up and waves to me.

 

This scene captures late mum with her love of blooms

in summer, I'm wrapped up in thoughts of when she was

never happier, than making up overflowing hanging baskets,

carrying impressions of house martins building muddy nests,

amusing how fusion of symbolic significance can spark waves

of recognition, inviting me back to those long ago garden memories.

Certificate U
Poem
Poems
Biography
Nature
Love
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by Di_Hard on

what a happy, poem, full of gentleness (even though windy) And the connection of the past with the present as your neighbour waves to you. It makes a lovely feeling, to read

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hello Di,

I spent a week figuring out this poem after I saw the I P. It seemed appropriate. My neighbour sadly can't get around without a walking stick, she spends a lot of time in her garden pottering around with her husband, it always reminds me of my mum who would spend days tending to her flowers. Funnily enough they have a cairne terrier dog, just like the one I used to have, which makes it even more of a resemblance.

Thank you for stopping by to read and let me know your thoughts.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

Lovely IP interpretation Jenny - thank you!

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Nice connection of memories. Peaceful gardening enjoyment. I was amused at the connection between hanging basket work and the martins building their nests up there - chicks peeping soon not flowers! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Jenny

What a lovely poem about your Mum and your neighbour.  I had a nostalgic moment about my mother this week too, as it was American mother's day on Sunday. I played her favourite song on the organ at church.

Jean Day

Submitted by marandina on

This is a gentle, reflective poem. Memories can be ageless.

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Such a very lovely poem, full of bright images. :)

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi insert,

I'm happy you liked my poem. I think my mum was never happier than when she was dead heading flowers and watching them bloom.

Thank you for reading and thank you for those cherries, very much appreciated.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Rhiannon,

you got the connection between the hanging baskets and the house martins spot on. I thought it was a fun idea thinking about those birds with their cup shaped mud nests. So glad you were able to pick up on that.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Jean,

what a lovely tribute to your mum, I bet she was somewhere up there hearing the song she so loved. smiley I had no idea it was American mothers day last sunday.

Glad you enjoyed reading and thank you so much for letting me know.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Paul,

yes you're right, memories can be ageless, especially when they're personal favourites.

I think the I P definitely inspired me this week.

Lovely to hear from you and thank you for letting me know.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Rachel,

mum and dad's garden was always very bright and colourful, I used to love gardening and growing flowers and veg, but these days I find digging and bending down too much, so leave the gardening to my partner. It's sad really because we bought our house because of the garden and now I'm not able to do much...but hey ho I do have writing which I love.

Wishing you well and thank you so much for reading and your lovely comment.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by hilary west on

Hi Jenny,

This is a lovely poem of fond memories : soft as a summer shower! Nice one.

hilary       smiley Well done on the cherries too.

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Bless you Hilary, thank you so much for your kind words and for reading.

Jenny. smiley

 

Submitted by celticman on

it's funny who we are is what we are, your mum in bloom as a flower lover. 

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

What a lovely thing to say. Thank you so much Jack.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Penny4athought on

Whispers of love do travel along sensory paths , a fragrance, a sound, the weather of the day can bring swift recall. Precious moments we've shared, recorded on our timeline, waiting for a replay. They are the whispered hello from the ones we miss. smiley

Penny4athought

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

What a thoughtful comment Penny. Your words gave me a sense of worth that writing this poem was important.

Thank you so much.

Jenny. smiley

 

Submitted by Hades502 on

Another great one Jenny. I have to keep going back through your slightly older poems to comment on your writing these days. Congrats on the cherries.

GGHades502

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi there Hades,

honestly, it's so kind of you to take the time to read and comment on anything I write. 

This one was special as it was dedicated to my late mum who always enjoyed her flowers.

Thank you.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Jenny

This was lovely, and made me think about my mother's favourite flowers. Probably red roses, but my dad always gave her a cheaper red flower whose name escapes me, and I remember her saying, "I wish he had given me some nylons."  But maybe her favourtes were the lilacs that our next door neighbour had 5 fushes of, and they were visible and smellable just outside our dining room window. When she was going to host a bridge party, she asked him for a bouquet, and he said no, it would spoil the shape of the bushes.  I don't think she ever forgave him for that.

Jean Day

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

To know I could bring back memories of your mum to you Jean, makes writing this poem even more special. 

Thank you again for letting me know.

Jenny.