The old place has lost its luster
but the memories still hold their glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
kept me safe and warm so long ago
the mornings were a bustling din
dad off to work and me late for school
but together at evenin’ dinner table
clean hands’n face — as was the rule
then dad and I tinkered in his workshop
as mom and baby bro’ would play
then round the hearth to sooth our bones
all sharin’ stories about our day
now off to bed in clean pajamas
a bedtime tale to make us thrill
wrapped in blankets of our family’s love
to keep us warm against night’s chill
wonderful dreams, seldom a nightmare
we all slept tight — safe ‘n sound
though the world was having troubles
at our home they nev’r came around
yes — the old place has lost its luster
but every memory still holds a glow
this place — my cherished childhood home
that kept me safe and warm so long ago
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: The Sunday Muse
https://youtu.be/tTKp1RHuyoQ
I went by my old childhood home one day and couldn’t even find it at first–I had to go by the house numbers. it had been totally redone and modernized. But that’s okay, I have very few warm fuzzies about the place. HOME is where I am now and for the last 20 years–I love my pad. 😉
The house pictured was similar, but my childhood was madness, with the beginning in a WWll era orphanage — then a completely sinister clinically paranoid schizophrenic live-in grandmother constantly disrupting the family into which I was finally adopted… and the neighborhood in which we lived. I was not sble to have friends over. I effectively moved out at age 15 to essentially stay most of the time at the band-house of the older DooWop group (The Casinos), with whom I was performing. My early childhood house was similar though, the the prompt photo..
So glad it was such a wonderful memory!
A concoction of my wishful mind — but the house does look similar.
well written rob. those old homes, as frail as they are, always seem so much stronger with all of those memories still in their bones. enjoyed this very much.
Thank you Phillip, but a fabrication — other than the resemblance of the house.
So reminiscent of my childhood it left me with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye. Blessings, Rob!
Thank you Bev, but other than the house looking a lot like ours, the rest was pure fantasy. My childhood was scary snd difficult.
Such WONDERFUL memories………I resonate – all those memories glow golden, the more so with every year we age. Though my childhood was not happy, still those times have their own special glow for me……….a time when the world felt more innocent – and FAR more hopeful. Loved this, Rob.
Thank you Sherry. The house resembling my childhood home is the only part of this piece that wasn’t fiction. My childhood was an unhappy time for me, but these are the memories I WISH I had.
Such lovely memories captured here Rob. What a blessing indeed!
Thank you Carrie, wish they were real.
A cozy creation, a single day extending itself through memory.
Glad you liked this Chrissa… 🙂
‘Love blankets’ ~~ how delightful. Your blog is quite handsome, I’ve been meaning to say that … love how the images contrast with the dark background.
Thank you Helen! The visual impact of life is extremely important to me. This particular theme is almost 15 years old. I have customized it a number of times over the years, but I can’t find a newer theme I like as much.
This expresses so well that feeling of being loved and safe. This stanza in particular:
‘now off to bed in clean pajamas
a bedtime tale to make us thrill
wrapped in blankets of our family’s love
to keep us warm against night’s chill’.
So pleased this resonated for you Marion.
Rob, this is the first time hearing about that crazy grandma that disrupted your adoptive home. I thought you and your adoptive father were close. Dreams aren’t real but they can keep us going through some very grim situations. I’m glad you are giving your grandson a happier childhood there with your son and daughter in-law.
My adoptive father Bob was my island in the midst of that madness, that was my early life after the orphanage, Lisa. He refused to abandon his wife, my dismissive adoptive mother, and she refused to harness her mother’s madness — not unusual for that era of denial… but he understood the impact it had on me, and he helped me escape it as best and and often as he could. He taught me baseball, and coached me when I was young. He taught me fishing and we went on many fishing trips, my favorite were into the areas around the great lakes —- especially into Canada. He taught me how to camp, and how to love the wilderness, and how to survive in it. My adoptive dad was my hero, and in hindsight, he was clearly my savior. His wife and mother-in-law made his life extremely difficult — but he brought wonder and joy into mine. I loved him dearly, but I eventually had to essentially establish my independence, away from the house as much as possible, in my early teens. I began forming bands and making music in my early teens, as my vehicle to do so. The strength he instilled in me was what made it possible for me to have confidence in myself while I was quite young. It did, however, take me many years to rise above the scars.
This is lovely, Rob. Family warmth keeping troubles outside the door.
Thank you Sara.
Such warm memories. You paint a sweet poetic picture.
Thank you!