Abandoned House -- a poem for The Sunday Muse
Summer Escapes
My hangout when I felt abused
T'would be the old abandoned house
The big Texas Ranch House next door
Next door was about a mile away
Across the water, wooded creek
There forget about my feelings
Hurt and not loved by my parents
Sulking mood pre-teens often have
Fly out the window drop to death
Take my big dog and hike and sulk
Tell my mom, dad always away
"I'm going down to the creek to play"
Stopped there, where Shep and I would play
Thinking more, poor me, sulking still
Go over the knoll to the house?
There we'd stay until almost late
Forgetting the morning conflict
One I'd never win but I'd try
Look for treasures left, every room
Sunroom memories eating there
All us kids would be herded in
Played while our parents ate and drank
Memories of the good times back then
Had dreams I'm not remembering now
Forgot about being saddened
My own castle safe and secure
_ _ _
- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2022, All Rights Reserved
- Photo from Carrie's collection from which to choose and write my thoughts at The Sunday Muse #220,
- I am thinking about an abandoned house I would visit pre-teen, mostly happy, once in a while hurting. Sometimes besides the dog I would take my little sister. I still have an old key that I took from a nail on a wall. That house has since been purchased along with a small acreage and folks are living there again.
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Labels: Children, Fiction, Sunday Muse 01, Syllabic Form
posted by Jim @ 7/23/2022 07:45:00 AM
7 comments
7 Comments:
I identify with this poem, Jim. I was a child in search of a safe place, too. Well done. A sad remembering, but with some good memories too.
You found shelter and comfort in a abandoned home. That makes for a wonderful poem that you have written today Jim. Hope you have a wonderful weekend.
Excellent piece Jim. It really hit home for me. I was right there with you. Having access to an abandoned house as s child would have been so very cool! I lived in the center of our little town, so my only oasis of escape, was the big attic in our garage. I’d hide and play there for hours — until the craziness in the house died down… but most often until dad got home from work. I’d climb down and give him a big hug, once he’d finished garaging the old Buick. He always brought order to the emotional chaos,
Interesting trip to the past--that contrast between a sunroom full of kids and an empty house as a place to decompress. Really enjoyed this.
Hopefully this set them on course to be strong and possitive adults in the years that followed.
How cool, to have somewhere like that to escape to as a kid.
I too identify with this poem. My safe place was to roam the woods and creeks. Nature was my therapist for all the things I couldn't tell anyone.
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