Lights – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us. She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

 

Lights

In the end bedroom where I slept

Gas mantles still, in graceful arcs,

Hung from the walls and hissed and glowed.

I much preferred the candle lights

Dancing across the shadowy walls

Which, when extinguished, would exhale

A fatty scent that lingered till

It mingled with the lavender

Of newly laundered sheets. And as

I snuggled down to sleep on soft

Down mattress, with the chilly touch

of satin-bounded blankets on

My neck, and heard the friendly sounds

Of engines shunting in the yards,

Not far away, I like to know

That underneath the door the glow

Of bright electric lights still show.

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

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Filed under Meet The Family, Other Folks Writings That I Like, Poem Of The Week, Poetry

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