MEMORY'S CHARM
Take me home now
To the valleys
To the hills
To the people's of my land
To monotony
And thrills
To kindred spirits
Entwined forever
In the concrete streets
In the lazy sun
Where we played out late
All learning done
To mother's on walls
Spinning gossip with tea
And fathers chastising
Away with you all
Wrapped in silver comfort
And familiarity
To long summer nights
Games squabbles fights
To a communities love
Where communities judge
And God holds court
In the Workingmen's Club
To freezing nights
To sparklers
Bonfires on communal green
Ducking apples
Drizzle rain
To...GOD SAVE THE QUEEN
To the sands respite
To crashing waves
Paste sandwiches
Buckets, spades
To the sameness of days
The sameness of nights
To the Beacons
To Black Mountains
Where the ponies
Run and bask
Ice-cream from the singing van
Tomato soup in flasks
To the boisterous pubs
And voices loud
Ever safe
In the singing crowd
To the Golden Shot on Sunday nights
Harbinger of the bedtime fight
To golden dreams
To small lives
Big hearts and
Nan
To the Dragon
To Wales
Held in memory's charm.
Bring me home now....
Marion Price (2019)
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Comments
My Goodness MARION!!.... you are a fine poet.... blossoming right before our very eyes..... this has a genuinely well executed rhythm to the metering that sends it into a magical place....a place where memories of home are painted grandiosely and etched in stone within the tone created by the well executed phrasing ~
~ "To the beacons
To the black mountains
Where the ponies
Run and bask...."
There is a gorgeous, repetitious, magic happening here!!.......ALL STARS!!......smokin' grooves dear poet sister!!......smokin' grooves!!........LOVE & ROCKETS!!........T xo ?❤
Thanks Tony, isn't it funny that as we age what was the mundane monotony of childhood appears to take on a magical hue and our connection to lost times grow. I think I was lucky enough to have on of the last eras of childhood where kids were actually sent out to play and communities still very much existed. Today, children are glued to tablets and the Xbox and everybody works too much ( myself included). Most people do not know the names of their neighbours anymore. The Breacon Beacons and Black Mountains is one of the few wild spaces left in S Wales and a national park, it is also one of my favourite memories of childhood. My dad, my mam and nan and my 4 siblings would pile into ONE clapped out car with the tomato soup and sandwiches! ?...clearly before the days of health and safety in UK...lol. Happy times ???