Wednesday, 6 January 2016

Poetry Thursday 194 - What's in your Eden?

What's in your Eden? Each of us collects memories that are precious to us, the happiest of these may be from your personal Garden of Eden and have purposes. They can give you solace in bad times, confidence in times of test and peace when one is stressed.

The Range

The black, polished, gleaming range
responding to the effort put into its care.
A warm, flickering glow encased behind the bars,
pushing back the stubborn darkness to the corners of the room.
Christmas aprons tied around thickening waists,
washed weekly, then dirtied again with black lead, and flour from the baking.
Steamy Mondays, whites being boiled with Dolly Blue
in the stone floored scullery.

Sent off to ‘do the messages’;
“Don’t squash the bread!”
“Don’t forget the change!”
“Go straight there and back!”
An adventure of sorts for a youngster.

Scones baked adjacent to the flickering flames,
admonished not to eat them while pulsating with heat,
or stomach ache would be the treat.
Cold dark nights, windows frost patterned on the inside,
and extra heavy, coarse blankets pinioning to the mattress.
Hot, thick, seething porridge, gasping and belching in the pan,
ready to drive away the night’s chill.

When the days warm with the threat of spring,
the door into the backyard left open to the sunlight,
the sounds and smells of the street come in,
odours of burning coal and others’ cooking.
The chorus of hard soled feet clicking rapidly against the harder paving stones,
accompanying the occasional horse and cart.
A rag and bone man prepared to take your things
in exchange for balloons,
or plastic windmills, brightly coloured and clicky in the winds.
The ice-cream boy with his whistle, pedalling his
mobile fridge bike, chilled with smoking dry ice.

No TV, computer or world wide web,
the world was smaller than a town.
Radio entertained and informed at a genteel pace,
in plummy tones.
Everything from war to Christmas carols.
What is in your Eden?
© David L Atkinson January 2016

Moving back to the animal poetry I have been inspired to write about the woodlouse.

Image result for woodlouse


Is it an insect or some kind of fish
it lives on land but what is its wish.
Would it be happier under the sea,
where it could roam about totally free?

A dull looking creature with hard outer shell,
creeping ‘neath stones and doors as well.
An unwelcome visitor inside your house,
the persistently silent, harmless woodlouse.
© David L Atkinson January 2016

God Bless