On Wings of a Song

By Silver Spun Sand

Sun, 20 Nov 2011
  • 1396 reads
8 comments
 

Like a zephyr in the breeze,
a thread of a tune wafts
my way. What was it called,
and what was the name
my sister gave me, secretly?
Pansy, I vaguely remember.

Standing here, at the top
of a hill, as lichen-feathered
trunks of the plane trees
run black with summer rain,
strains of an upright piano
in Nan’s hallowed front-room
and those wonderful refrains,

“What’ll I do?” “Charmaine”,
“Moulin Rouge”. And the me
that I was, hasn’t gone...she’s
there yet. Picking scabs,
underneath the bedclothes –
still dead afraid of ‘goolies
and ghosties...and things
that go bump in the night’.

Certificate U
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Tina, and here is yet another thoughtful poem. I could almost see you stood at the top of the hill, reminising of days gone by. I loved the lines:- Standing here, at the top of a hill, as lichen-feathered trunks of the plane trees run black with summer rain, strains of an upright piano in Nan's hallowed front-room and those wonderful refrains, This reminded me of me and my cousin in South Wales, when we used to sing around the piano. My how my Aunty loved to sing. Thankyou for sharing Tina and hope you are having a good weekend. Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thanks for your lovely comment, Jenny. I can just see you and your cousin gathered round that piano;-) Pleased you enjoyed and many thanks for telling me. Tina;-)

 

Submitted by rjnewlyn on
You do memory very well - this is just another example. I remember the ghost rhyme - weren't there 'long legged beasties' in it somewhere? Rob

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
HI there, Rob;-) Yes, 'long-legged beasties' were there too. Tina

 

Submitted by fatboy74 on
Rob's right Tina - I think you do memory wonderfully well - the simple pleasure of picking scabs, I remember it well. :-)

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thanks, fb;-) Tina

 

Submitted by Cavalcader on
new Silver-Spun-Sand Hi! Tina Love THE Title. And all fantastic memories, of you around the piano. My pop,used to play as well, if on leave from the Navy days. Done thing those days. And his violin. Poor Rags the collie would howl? top not screeched! Then off pop go along the pub! Could play am accordian to. Oh! how gifted. Go on the silver spoons. None of us six not gifted like him we try scales and chop sticks, and bit of "In the mood". Think when youn he had all lessons. Played by ear? I believe drum set, when younger. 'Pancho his black ugly Mynah' bird. No not a two legged one. He was 'Pancho "where's dad along the pub" Cage wasn't big enough for him. Someone put,on AbcTales who has over 90 cherries! I reckon you could be tops! maybe for it, great writer. Ah! Memories. Rare African Dahlia ou here, 1st time bloomed in 20 years, paper states. Climate. Two girl's eating ice-cream in December nearly in town mall. Have a fine week-end. julie x

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Hi Julie, pleased you liked this one so much, plus its title;-) Thank you for sharing your memories, and I bet you 'pop' was really great on the piano. Tina xx