Tuesday, March 11, 2008
11th March Ode to Rocking Horse.
ODE TO ROCKING HORSE
Once, these things all around were much loved and treasured,
They were handled in use, admired and pleasured.
Pretty plates, jugs a plenty, teapots and glass
Were the background to peoples’ lives, now long past.
Once, these things all around were much loved and treasured,
They were handled in use, admired and pleasured.
Pretty plates, jugs a plenty, teapots and glass
Were the background to peoples’ lives, now long past.
Pictures or books had been chosen with care
As gifts, maybe, for a loved one so dear.
The old folks of then are with us no more –
Their things crammed now on shelves in this store.
A mother sat once on that homely old chair,
Her baby in arms and happy children are there.
The toys, now collected, link us all to those days,
Creating a bond with history’s ways.
As gifts, maybe, for a loved one so dear.
The old folks of then are with us no more –
Their things crammed now on shelves in this store.
A mother sat once on that homely old chair,
Her baby in arms and happy children are there.
The toys, now collected, link us all to those days,
Creating a bond with history’s ways.
*******************************************
We link with the past people and all the past things,
Weekly we hunt to see what the day brings.
We clean and we mend, absorbing through fingers
The lives and the loves that on everything lingers.
We share in the pleasures of folks long ago,
Who first bought the beauties, carefully put on show.
Weekly we hunt to see what the day brings.
We clean and we mend, absorbing through fingers
The lives and the loves that on everything lingers.
We share in the pleasures of folks long ago,
Who first bought the beauties, carefully put on show.
The shelves in our shop are filled to the brim –
Christening robes, spoons, thimbles, milk churns of tin
Christening robes, spoons, thimbles, milk churns of tin
Sit with fine china, clocks and cameras of old,
Sitting and hoping to catch an eye and be sold.
Sitting and hoping to catch an eye and be sold.
Then off to new homes, new owners to treasure
This gentle history which gives us such pleasure.
This gentle history which gives us such pleasure.
***************************************************
Paula J Monk March 2008.
***************************************************
Yes, you guessed it - today has been quiet in the shop and I needed to find something stimulating to do.
A poem, a poetic ramble just seemed to grow. I thought about for a few minutes, but didn't know that this effort would rhyme until I found the first 2 lines had made a rhyming couplet.
When I write - EMails, blogs, poems - anything, the words just flow without much organisation from my head and heart. I don't pretend that my efforts have the literary class of well structured and honed pieces of writing, but I enjoy creating a mood to share.
Wow! In the past there have been some very black and frightened moods.
Generally I prefer not to be restricted by rhyme, but you may be sure that Grandad B likes his poetry to have traditional rhymes and rhythms.
I have coughed and spluttered, but coped reasonably well - until 5 o'clock, when we found ourselves with customers and thus we were half an hour late leaving.
Unfortunately nobody bought from Bill or I today - the whole week has been like that; I do believe that this has been the worst week ever in a shop for us and yet we know we will miss it.
Now I want an early night.
