Sunday, July 12, 2009

A Time More Gentle.

Pissaro


Times were gentler then.
A woman could pause
In her labours
To smile at her child on the grass.
*
The sheets
Would smell of freshly-mown grass.
They would dry
With the heat of the sun.
*
When they went back into the house
Grandmother,
In the ingle-nook,
Would take the child on her knee.
She would tell and re-tell old tales
And the child
Would never grow tired of them
*
On the hob
A pan of delicious soup
Would boil and bubble.
The aroma
Would permeate the house.
*
Yes, times were gentler then.
*
But what is this?
Father has returned!
He is drunk!
*
'Where's my food, woman!'
He'll shout.
'Bring it here or I'll belt you!'
*
Times were ......different.....then.
*
Everything but the violence here:

5 comments:

Dee Martin said...

isn't it funny how nostalgia see what it wants to see and "disregards" the rest! It's good to remember that some things about the good old days weren't so good :)

Fledgling Poet said...

Oh wow...that last part took me by surprise. A bit of ugly reality snuck in there at the finish...

quilly said...

Not only the good ol' days -- that was like a glimpse into my marriage. He never hit me, but the shouts and the threats -- oh my! And you just took me to revisit it.

Lucy said...

thank god.."the times they are A changin!"
love the way you painted that children's picture book scene but then gave us the brutal r rated ending.

Kat said...

Somehow I think, the good, the bad and the ugly are all there - all the time.