This image is for illustration purposes only and does not represent the people in the poem.
Love held them together, and apart, for twenty years,
First love was theirs, second love someone else’s.
Only third love bought them together again.
Maybe a fourth love will change things?
Sometimes I want to go home.
Not this house, home,
But the one I grew up in.
The family home and hearth.
The place I knew so well
It’s nooks and crannys
The garden and the tree I climbed.
The old swing and the rockery.
Doors I shut forty years ago
Creak open in my mind.
I wish I could shut my eyes and go.
See our old pets, the roses by the back door.
Dad’s motorbike, mom’s hair in rollers.
Little memories make me homesick.
I would drive there now at 2am
But a new family live there.
I feel lost.
For Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto prompt.
‘Well it was like this officer’ she said, ‘we were down on the beach and saw the cave’. She sneezed, the cold was getting into her bones ‘ it reminded me of the film “whiskey galore” based on the book by Compton MacKensie, so we decided to explore it. We scrambled down the rocks and walked past the waterfall. We went straight in because it had started to lash down with rain, so it was a chance to get under shelter too’
‘About what time was that?’ the policeman had a little hand held computer which he typed into. Not as interesting as a notebook she thought.
‘Around 10am yesterday.’ she pulled the silver space blanket tighter around her shoulders. ‘We are on holiday, we don’t know about the tides’ She looked down at her husband lying on a stretcher The ambulance people had put an oxygen mask on him and dressed the cut on his head. He gave her a little wave.
‘Yes, the tide came in while we were exploring, the cave goes back so far and the water just came up before we knew it. We were in waist deep water, but the waves were pushing us deeper in when we tried to swim out. In the end we found a ledge to sit on…. .’ the policeman was still typing ‘so what happened then?’ ‘we tried using our phones but they wouldn’t work, they had got a soaking, we tried wading out, but by then we were too cold. So we just sat as close together as we could.’
She sighed ‘ we must both have fallen asleep because when we woke up again the tide had come back in. We were exhausted and decided to wait till morning. My husband stood up to stretch and that’s when he cracked his head on the rock’. ‘So that’s when we found you’ said the policeman. ‘It was the landlady at your B&B that alerted us’
‘one thing’ he said ‘what’s that wrapped in your coat?’
‘This? It’s an old bottle of 25 year old single malt’ she smiled.
Cat hidden in dusty shadow. Lost to the World.
You were smart and neat once, now slightly chipped and nicked.
No longer on display, but hidden in a corner .
Spotted paint is scuffed, dots are faded,
But you can’t leave, you are an old friend .
Will you ever see the light of day, no sign of your return to favour.
Fold yourself into the corner, stay stray until you are called back. Home.