The dark sky
Autumn tears frozen
The clocks hands
The hour chosen
Ticks softly
Velvet and silk
The empty cup
The unopened milk.
The shadows cover
The ornate arch
That spans the kitchen
Night times start
Fruit that lives
Inside a bowl
Old fashioned tablecloth
Of grandmas home.
The biscuit tin
It revives
Memories of
When a child
Sundays visit
Chocolate biscuits treat
An empty chair
The house to speak.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: October 10th, 2026 02:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 53
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments8
There are certain things that revive memories and I hear some of them in this poem. It leaves nostalgic feelings of another time. Nicely done Norman it speaks to me.
Much appreciated, thanks my friend
Always a pleasure Norman
A real treat to read, dear friend 🙏🏻🕊️
thanks and appreciation my friend
Most welcome friend 👍🏻🙏🏻🕊️
In search of a rediscovered time ...
past and present combine, thanks for read my friend, much appreciated
Good write N. A Sunday treat - a bus - the only one for the whole day! lol.
yes, but not no 7 lol
Wow you've captured memories so poetically, it reads beautifully with imaginative terms. Kudos!!
Plz also read and comment my newest poem too
thanks and appreciation
most kind much appreciated
I was ready to help myself to a chocolate biscuit, Norman…now I’d rather sit with you and hear more about your grandma. Great poem, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Many thanks my friend, always much appreciated
Such wonderful memories Norman.
Andy
Thanks much appreciated my friend
Great memories relived 👌👏
thanking you much appreciated
you are welcome !
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