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More poems feeling about Life
I REMEMBERED
I remembered what the old house looked like.
With the gate made with the wheels of a bike,
The tall pine that every Christmas was alight
From the base to the tip with colours so bright.
The old broken step third up, next to the top,
The porch with the worn mat where all did stop
To read the welcome sign and wipe their feet,
Then the sweet smell of pine oil you did meet,
The glow of the lamp shining on the floor,
The flicker of fire sneaking under the door,
The happy chatter of voices from the kitchen,
A home and refuge free from harm and sin.
Gran would be rocking with just the firelight,
Knitting away, her old eyes still quite bright,
The cat and dog intertwined in the warmest place,
I wish I could be there to see each smiling face.
Look, there’s dad and grandpa bringing in wood,
I should be helping them, I wish I really could,
See the girls and mom baking, cooking up a storm,
I know through the house all will be cozy and warm.
Not cold wet and draughty like this dirty street,
Food enough and spare enough for me to eat,
Every year at Christmas I remember so very well
The old house where all those I love do dwell.
This year I will go for I have nothing left to lose,
Maybe this year it will be right way I choose.
The light on the pine are brighter than ever before,
And look at all those loved ones waiting at the door.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson December 2, 2002