Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The Image

A fellow blogger gave me permission to use this photo and now I can't find her details!
Please contact me if you are the photographer and I will acknowledge you!

And the 'fellow blogger' is
Beverly @How Sweet The Sound
Many thanks.


We carry images in our minds,
Predetermined perceptions;
Pictures formed we know not where
From various connections.
Africa...... those little huts
And an awful lot of sand;
Sweden, always crisp and cool,
With fir trees on every hand.
England...... little cottages
And twisty country lanes.
Egypt...... all those Pharaohs
And their opulent remains.
Yet I have travelled widely
And I know there is much more;
There are all those boring bits
We don't count in the score.
And there are things that just leap out 
And take us by surprise;
And oddities that show themselves
Right before our eyes.
However, the old images
I've carried in my brain,
Are still as lively as before
And that's how they'll remain.
And here we see America
As I hold it in my mind;
A scene that's the epitome
Of all I'd expect to find
If I were just transported
To some pleasant average town,
And I were left to view the place
By wandering up and down.
This is exactly the picture.....
That I'd expect to see;
Forget New York and Disneyland
This is America for me.


Mother passed along the landing, saw her daughter's open door.
Stood amazed to see the neatness! Not a thing upon the floor!
Every item neat and tidy, every feature spick and span!
This was so unlike her Mandy! A scruffy girl since life began!
Then she saw her daughter's pillow, and on the pillow a folded note.
With shaking fingers she displayed it! What were the words that Mandy wrote?
The worst of all her fears were realised! This was , indeed, a dreadful text!
She read one line, then read another! What on earth was coming next?
'Dear Mummy! I have news to tell you. I have run away for good.
I am living in a hovel deep inside a distant wood.
I am living with my lover; he's a man of sixty-three.
You may think this quite excessive, but he will take care of me.
He has some children he's supporting; he's been married several times.
And he's just come out of prison; he's committed minor crimes.
I agree, there's not much money, but I can work I'm very strong!
I'm fifteen, so I'll support him! We are sure to get along!
Once the baby's born he'll mind it while I work to earn a crust.
Abdul will be such a father! He is someone I can trust.
He's got AIDS but not too badly; he can cultivate our plot;
Already he has done very well! We've got our own supply of pot!
Goodbye to all my friends and family! Don't search! I've gone to ground.
Thank you for my happy childhood! Believe me, I shall not be found!'
Mother reeled away in horror! Gone was all her happiness!
Then she saw some further writing! Mandy had added a P.S.!
'When you read my school report you'll see the awful marks I've got.
I know that you'll be disappointed because you'll see I've failed the lot!
But, compared with what I've written things are really not too bad.
I'm next-door! When you've recovered I'll come home to you and Dad!'


Beverly said...

That's my photo you asked to use.

Beverly @How Sweet The Sound

Love the poem. You made my day. I can't wait to share this with my husband.

Beverly said...

I am linking to this post in my post tomorrow. I thought you might want to know.

My husband loves your poem, too.♥

The Quintessential Magpie said...

I popped over from Beverly's! Loved the poem. Perfect choice of a house, too!



Linda @ A La Carte said...

Wonderful poem! I came over from Beverly's blog!

RobinfromCA said...

These words are beautiful and you've chosen the perfect home to go with them. Just lovely.

Marianne C. said...

I'm visiting from Beverly's...You certainly are a wonderful writer! I agree about her house. It truly is an Americana home.

Enjoy the day,

dana said...

I, too, am visiting from Beverly's blog. . . .your poem is wonderful. . . and you hit the nail on the head about her beautiful home!


jeanne said...

Hi Rinky, your poem about homes and places is wonderful. Beverly has been my friend for 41 years. Her home is lovely inside and out. It is the home that your lovely poem describes.

I laughed when I saw the Dear MUM letter. Too funny.

XO, Jeanne