February 1, 2023

Parapraxis

Writer's Showcase

When There Was Morning Light

2 min read

When There Was Morning Light

 

 

Across the darkened mushrooms, almost crisp,
loving words and thoughts were shone.
Halcyon days that are lost in the mist of time –
words breathed into a thick air.
A touch – reached across the table of life –
just moving the quiff on a schoolboy’s brow.

Her hand an eiderdown of love and care.
Lips imparting secrets there.
Lost, now.

The smell of smoke on a light Summer’s day
drifting in and out of rooms.
The scales of life adjusted by her existence,
balancing the bad with good,
she brought – with her smouldering tea-towel –
laughter into my mother’s dour front room.

Her smile a marshmallow of fun and play.
Sunshine in every day –
with her.

The thud of fear in my trembling belly.
One or two words too many ….
A child, barely grown into early teenage years,
prematurely speaks with men,
and puts – with quite some unassuming ease –
a foot firmly between his pair of lips.

Her pain a needle ever in my mind.
Sorrow at last defined –
but way …

too late.

 

 

© Allen Ansell 2005, 2021

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6 thoughts on “When There Was Morning Light

  1. A poem of love, pain and wonderful memories lived through the years. No one captures the true essence of a moment in time like the way you do. I really admire your writtung style.

  2. I have great admiration Allen, for your skill and ease at evoking in your poetry the past, with all its contradiction’s; this made all the more telling by how you convey emotions. Again, a brilliant work.

  3. Once again, Allen, you have stunned me with your absolutely excellent writing. The way you connect with real life and put it in a poem is just beautiful. I have earlier said it but would repeat it, you have a god’s gift, really good. Keep it up.

    1. I believe that everything in existence is ‘God’s gift’ and that we are all part of the ‘whole’. We are at the same time all quite unique beings and ALL of us are empowered with skills of one kind or another. Sometimes people to not extend themselves to recognise their skill(s).
      I appreciate you comment, Mike, and it is nice to hear that you enjoyed this poem. May you God be with you.
      Allen

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