For The Love Of Village Life
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By skinner_jennifer
- 4366 reads
Dear diary...
From heart of Shire where I was
born, no rush to grow away from
black and white memories; those
sinuous lanes I knew well, are now
following spectrum of colours
that harvest wealth.
I'm caught in drowsy simplicity
of adolescent dreams, relentlessly
unwavering like swiftness of
flowing streams.
Though friends were not steadfast
through many years, memories still
stand in awe: sometimes growing
clearer...fertilizing mind, helping
me assess perfect specimens of
reflections, now quenched before
vanishing.
I'm reminiscing – meandering
along many pavements from the
past, recalling Life Boat Inn
where rowdy men on Saturday
night socialize while supping
pints;
crossing road to aroma of fish and
chips, devoured by leather clad
bikers who hang around chippy,
before achieving a ton-up down to
Severn Beach, while girls in fish
net stockings chewing gum were
more consumed by Beatles and
Stones.
Young working class lovers stealing
kisses away from streetlights, not
able to find other ways to seal their
good nights; before turning key...
tiptoeing up to bed, avoiding creaky
stairs that might wake mum and dad.
From worn out windows where cracks
lurked, gaps under front door, wind
creeping in, whistling an eerie tune
along wrinkled cracked walls; depicting
long eared monsters that seemed to crawl.
Hearing Sunday morning chime of bells
swinging in the sixties, observing all this
through sands of time. It all may seem
common place to some, but I'll never
forget that time back then.
A picture in words of Shirehampton
village where I grew up in the 1960s,
that even to this day holds a special
place in my heart.
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Comments
Shirehampton sounds a special
Shirehampton sounds a special place. I enjoyed observing those memories with you through the sands of time, Jenny. Always a pleasure. Paul
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Hugely evocative and loved
Hugely evocative and loved some of the descriptions. I really like the line about friends not being steadfast, but you still cherish the memories and the times had. It's struck me that memory does seem more important & richer as we grow older. Thanks for posting.
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This is like a time capsule
This is like a time capsule Jenny, crafting from words a picture which we can all see. Somehow our depiction of past times seems more innocent than today's world but I don't know if that's actually true or we were just more naive. The pubs were certainly much more important and they all had 'rowdy men'. I'd love to step into your poem, just for a few hours.
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oh it is just like a time
oh it is just like a time capsule isn't it! Beautifully painted Jenny - thank you!
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From worn out windows where
From worn out windows where cracks lurked, gaps under front door, wind creeping in, whistling an eerie tune along wrinkled cracked walls; depicting long eared monsters that seemed to crawl.
Our parents' generation had it tough after the war didn't they? But gradually the notion came that standard of living, housing, decor, acquisition of luxury items must increase constantly as a ritght without too much 'making do', and waiting and working hard for self and others. Good reminder. Thank you. Rhiannon
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Beautiful poem
Truly evocative of a special atmosphere. Thank you for transporting us with you to another place and time.
Magnolia Fay
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absolutely loved this :0)
absolutely loved this :0) Thankyou so much for your wonderful memories! You make me think how Life had so much more texture before, I wonder if memories made by young people now will be of playing online in flat worlds created by computer games graphics. I was trying to explain to my son about frost patterns on windows the other day, he was horrified, but though they involved being very cold even indoors they were magic, too. Making everything more comfortable has a trade off I guess. Anyway, I agree with Jane and Insert that reading this is to be plunged back in Time, lovingly described and richly evocative I felt I was there, too
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As everyone has said, this so
As everyone has said, this so wonderfully brings a time and place to life. Such beautiful phrases - among many, I was very taken with the bells 'swinging in the sixties'. So clever! Lovely writing.
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I did enjoy the poem too. It
I did enjoy the poem too. It really does show your memories of time and place in such a personal way.
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I was walking with you
I was walking with you through long years of Memory Lane where magic converts all those rays of light and shadows into a beautiful tapestry loved and appreciated throughout the years. What would we do without those memories!
from Yutka
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