I Had Hoped…. Picked
I hoovered all the floors
today, just in case you came
I didn’t really think you would,
but did it all the same.
The polish and the duster
made every surface bright
I didn’t really think you’d come,
but hoped that you just might.
I set the kettle on the stove to
whistle out its song
and checked the biscuits in the tin,
in case you came along.
But now the day is almost done
dark shadows carve the wall,
and though I rather hoped you would,
you didn’t come to call.
sometimes I think the dead relatives/pets visit us regularly or more often than the living, but what will become of us if memories of alive and dead creatures visit our minds more than normal? why should we remain constantly focused on any kind of visit or impression of a visit? the hoover the biscuits the tea shouldn’t wait for anyone, they are for us. And our visitors whenever they show up should know it, that this person always hoovers always has biscuits and tea ready, always is dressed well, always is freshly clean because he or she is not focused… Read more »
My dog can tell you my dead pets are here, I’m sure he sees them, his eyes follow something around the room at ceiling height and move here and there across the walls, fine by me I used to see them too, until I lost my last one, but I’ve always had an interaction with spirits.
I’m always hopeful of a visit from relatives and usually caught out with un-hoovered carpets and a layer of dust on furniture, which is what inspired this poem. Thank you very much for your comment, I really appreciate it. sue xx
Nicely constructed, sweetwater. It scanned well. It told it’s story.
I’m not sure if it was written in sorrow or with a soupcon of whimsy, it would work both ways I feel.
Congratulations on the pick.
Allen
Thank you Alan It was written more in the way of whimsy, my family have a habit of arriving with a five minute warning, which is lovely but
usually catches me out with dog hair strewn carpets and paw prints on the leather sofa! And the Grandchildren head for the usually half empty biscuit tin. So just in case they popped in I hoovered and then this arrived in my head. I alway hope to see them, but never know for sure.
The pick was a lovely surprise, wasn’t expecting one 🙂 sue.
This is a delightfully simple poem. That is its strength. It is meticulously timed bringing the reader along effortlessly. The light-heartedness on first glance hides an inner pain. The warmth of the arrival waiting is heartbreaking seeing as it never came to fruition. There is no fancy wording, no drama….again to my mind in this poem a strength. The whistling kettle, the biscuits in the tin…show a kind caring heart. The last stanza speaks of a gradual darkening of the spirit as “dark shadows carve the wall” The last two lines speak of a certain resigned disappointment that hides the… Read more »
Alison that is heartbreakingly sad, I’m so sorry. They are children for such a short time and unlike our own we have no control of their lives, even though they are so precious to us. Thank you so much for such a kind and thoughtful comment on my writing, and although I hadn’t seen a significance in the shadows on the wall, I think you are right, life can become overly bleak at the moment, with very little to lighten things. I rarely know when my family will call in, they are very spur of the moment people, so just… Read more »
Thank you Sue. It has been the worst pain I have ever known. Those days are gone now, never to return. That was 6 years ago. The loss is indescribable.
I never speak about it but I did today.
xxx
I cannot begin to imagine why or how a parent could ever inflict such heartbreak on their children’s Grandparent. It must be like losing part of your soul. I understand what it must have taken for you to tell me, and I appreciate it enormously. Xx sue xx
My door has always been open and I understand the thought of getting the place ready in case of visitors. I like the welcoming idea of having tea and biscuits there to make people welcome. It does end on a wistful note but also the hope that the visitors will come tomorrow. It’s beautifully done and definitely deserving the nib. So lovely to read.
Gee xx
Thank you very much, my family often arrive with no prior warning, and dog hair on carpets, muddy footprints on furniture is not a look I like to show them, I’m ever hopeful they will call in. Maybe next week 🙂
I hadn’t realised I had the nib at first. I haven’t posted for so long I wasn’t even sure I could still write anything. Sue xx
The anticipation of arrival! beautifully formed poem.
I was reminded of Waiting for Godot.
Thank you 🙂 I’m pleased you liked it sue.