Tuesday, February 28, 2017

A Treasure to Keep

  A Treasure to Keep

Somewhere between mountains
palisading -
where rivers
serpentine safely to sea -
I stood once,
on a front porch
Three steps,
pillowed with snow,
down to the yard
-another 50 feet walk
in the whiteness
to the lean-too barn

At age two or three,
I was keen to help
Grandpa milk the cow
from his stool
Crouching down,
I knew what to do
my small hands grabbed,
pulled down, and
squirted warm milk
from speckled udders-


into a tin bucket

I learned about
loving life,
where summers tinkled with flower bells
Unaware of chasms
on the way,
storms that would ensue,
my eyes full of wonder,
eggs, chickens,
scent of hay
dreams yet to dream

"Too deep to walk in", said he.

I said, "B-b-b-but Grandpa...
you can carry me!"

Poetics at the pub today dversepoets.com  dVerse is about a special memento,


  1. I love how you used your perspective as a child, innocent and full of hope.

  2. lovely lovely. such a sweet thing to keep. old photos can bring out lots of emotions to you. it is indeed a different tour you will have with those photos. great write

  3. "where summers tinkled with flower bells" - oh, how I love this. What a wonderful photo, and a beautiful piece.

  4. Love your last stanza, Kathy, as it reminds of the innocent, and love, we have, as children, to our grandparents. My own poem, for Mish's prompt, talks about my opa, which is Dutch, for grandpa, and the game he played, with us, grandchildren.

  5. I love the sense of that warm milk... I think that sense with hands is what brings you back to that scene.

  6. Its always fun to read any scene which has a mention of grandparents... an interesting and nice write, Kathy :)

  7. Oh....smiling I am. You've painted with your words, such lovely memories of childhood here. Such a special place, such a special grandfather. How we adore our grandparents, especially when we are so young! :) Just lovely.

  8. Actually this gave me some tears...my grandpa was so dear to me...I have similar memories of childhood...thanks for sharing this!

  9. This reminds me of days on my parents' farm with chickens and a few cows to milk and fields of corn and soybeans where there wasn't forest.

  10. Yes, the last farm we visited was our grandparent's. hen t was urban dwelling, only to visit the country on Sunday drives (something not foes such anymore).

  11. Wow, typos are me, it seems--we "all" visited--"Then it was " urban. Arthritis is not for sissies.

  12. What precious memory! :-)

    - imelda

  13. Sweet and treasured memories Kathy ~ Love your photo too ~

  14. What a photo...and what a write. Loved this Kathy.

  15. What nostalgic wonderfulness. I love the use of the word serpentine as a verb. Very descriptive.


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