THREE LINE TALES – WEEK 107 – GRANDMAS ARE THE BEST!

photo by Frank McKenna via Unsplash

 BY CHARLES ROBERT LINDHOLM

AN OLD FASHIONED WOMAN WHO USED NEEDLE AND THREAD

Moments of sublime

I went walking on a hilltop
though I wasn’t really there
And then I was beside the sea
with toes in water bare

I went climbing on a mountain
though it was I think a dream
As really I was looking back
at places I had been

Christmas passed

I sit at the side of an aging Christmas tree,
its lights still glittering, the ornaments of memory
and seasonal delight put away since yesterday.

Analog

It’s at times like this,
when morning slides across in its straw-yellow light –
that I am slow enticed to rise
and invite the day into my life.

THREE LINE TALES – WEEK 107 – GRANDMAS ARE THE BEST!

photo by Frank McKenna via Unsplash

 BY CHARLES ROBERT LINDHOLM

AN OLD FASHIONED WOMAN WHO USED NEEDLE AND THREAD

Nostalgia

“how sad and bad and mad it was – but then, how it was sweet”
― Robert Browning

Hidden between the pages
of my favorite book
or lying
as crushed petals
between those folds
scenting and filling up
my senses
will all the nostalgia
all the days and nights
there have been
and many more

Love’s Labors Lost (revisited)

she had moved many times in her life

not unexpectedly

some belongings became lost

were left behind

inadvertantly

or on purpose

when they caused her pain

May to December: A Letter Poem

Dear Celia,

The weather has turned again, with its gray entrenchments.

Nostalgia – Remembering

Once in awhile, I have an urge of

Going home to see my parents.

I shook my head hard for a few seconds,

Remembering that they were gone to heaven.

OctPoWriMo: day 5 – Shadorma Summation

Travelling

streaking through the night
the train came from the dark

Little ribbons

The festival is over
The music’s faded for a while
But thirty thousand wrists
have a memory for a smile

Beeching’s Blunder II

 

Caught the train as usual
but travelled back in time
The years slipped by like miles
along the Horsham line
The steeped and cut embankment
rebuilt and clear again
As clattering past the Shoreham points
sped my old steam train

Because of You

Nostalgia revisited

(The sky at 5:30 this morning, or somewhere thereabouts)

Skipping over puddles,

They vibrated with our giggles

Slam dunks in waste baskets

Crunchy sound of wheels on gravel,

On a cold wind blown night

A stare-down with the freelance tomcat

Occupied rainy days

Nostalgia

Heartstrings blow towards sweet memories;

Draining thoughts cloud judgment;

Old rains sprout new beginnings.

Friendship (Sonnet)

Is Friendship more than common history?
What is this connection of feelings fond?
Nostalgia and sentimentality
Altruistic goodwill behind the bond
Is it just an act, just another mask?
Are we bit role actors playing our part?
What is too much of amity to ask?

Hotel room ..

In a leather bound elegance
proudly they declare
“We will make you feel at home” …

And I say …
It ain’t the tiniest bit like home..

Not with these incredible pillows
Or these milky creamy soaps
Frantically leathery slippery
Like all dashing hopes ..

And the diminutively bottled
fragrant shampoos, creams, gels …
Blah.. blah.. blah…..
With the narrow necks..