A Poem for the Pantry
Reminiscing London Strolls;
take a walk through the neighborhood;
forty +/- reasons while living in London is the best
you, an Internet friend, had me walking at the old church park at St. John's Wood, and then into the leaf strewn paths through the old cemetery. There squirrels and moss covered unreadable tombstones standing crooked were waiting to join me. (St John's Wood--Wikipedia link)
A neighborhood playground
The little man at the gate house
Kids
Big kids and adults too
The spinning wheel we'd all be falling off
The swings with sitting small children, "push me higher Papa"
Morning walk up Abey Lane
Greeted at the corner, entrance into the street, swarming with camera toting tourists
Passing the old recording studio, Beatles early songs in my head
Waive to the web cam under the tree up on a pole
The old church, Abbey Road Baptist now, hoping to convert the Muslims to know Jesus
Things wear down in glamour at the next light, turn left to Abercorn School
Or walk on past a little too far for walking back.
Big Red double decker Bus 39 will take me/us back
Farther still the train awaits
But walking past the school, past the park, there's the little Beatles Memorabilia Store, records, eight track tapes, cassettes, or why not a CD?
Walk across the street, corner store
I'll have a Magnolla Bar, ice cream
Need a box of porridge (oatmeal)?
Beatle singer, Paul McCartney's house, wave, throw a kiss
On the way to the Cricket Stadium
St John's Wood park again
Come back up High Street, pass the library and the street little pancake, what do we call the thin ones, Crêpes. I'll have Nutella and Black Raspberry jam on mine
Could have had a Gelato cone (ice cream) coming back before the library instead of the crepe
Turn right, there will be my flat, come on in
What'd I miss, visit and we'll check things out
For sure I forget the Tube entrance, escape to downtown London
_ _ _
- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero In the Poetry Pantry at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/01/writers-pantry-3-be-warm.html?m=1
- This is intended to be seen as a rough draft, jotting my thoughts for a further effort. Here it is more prose than poem though in part it is in stanza form. A prose poem?
- My thoughts in writing this bit is that the end writing be as a note to a friend, perhaps in London, maybe not, for the friend to keep in mind the joys I/we had. And the whys one would want to live there. In it I recalled some of the times I or we had while being there in St John's Wood. I would also benefit myself from recalling these moments and more.
Labels: London, Pantry of Prose, prose poem, Walk Pictures
13 Comments:
What lovely nostalgia! (I'm sure it will find its right form.)
Rough drafts are like children, Jim, all over the place until we guide them. I often use the ‘scribble away’ method to get down all my thoughts before I lose them, a mass of clay ready to form. A prose poem is a good idea, although it would be nice to see it in a meandering form, with your reader strolling along beside you. I love your descriptions of the churchyard and playground. I haven’t had breakfast yet and your crepe with Nutella has my stomach rumbling!
Beautiful.
I really like the idea of this evolving into a note to a friend. It reads like something one would write into a travel journal. The thought of that sort of record being shared with another is exciting.
Beautiful and palpable nostalgia throughout this one, Jim!💝
Luv this wandering write, like walking beside the poet
Happy Sunday Jim
Much❤💃🕺🏽💃🏽❤love
interesting read.
The form is like a walk through the neighborhood. Sometimes you linger at a cafe or bump into someone and maybe take in the sights with a partner. According to Thoreau, a walk isn't linear, it's a wandering path to enjoy. Well done, Jim.
A nice reprise of good times in St. Johns Wood, a pleasant, rambling journey!
Oh love this memory walk you shared with us. I so wish I could visit there too.
It is so easy to love London and its environs as history oozes from the streets and buildings going back centuries.
A lovley London morning!
reads a bit like a journal, which is always comforting.
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