»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
Notes from a sentimental Poet
| Passions in Prose |
|
Notes from a sentimental Poet |
|
|
Burk28 Member
since 2009-01-08
Posts 80Michigan USA |
It seems as though I am at a heightened awareness, I assume that this is result of returning to the place of my childhood, and shaking hands once again with my memories. I will turn fifty this year, and as I look back some forty five years ago I see with great clarity that five year old barefoot and suntanned kid, playing on oiled dirt roads, eating Concorde grapes straight off the vine, reaching out of my Grandfathers rambler for plump July cherries hanging off the trees. I remember my mother's red and white boat that lay in the front yard, (unbeknownst to me) that was for sale to the best bidder. I was the only kid on the block that had a 16 foot boat as a jungle gym. I sailed on great adventures on that landlocked craft. Rocking it back and forth in the summer dust of Old Lake Road. The birth and beginning of a poet’s imagination... Upon reflection as well, I have come to the conclusion that those times were the birthplace of my observation. It is uncanny the perceived clarity that I have of the place and the moments spent there. But I am grateful for them. For they have become a well spring of inspiration, of thoughts and reflections. You know, there are days when I can barely remember my own phone number, yet mention the cottage, and a million memories all flood in, clear and concise. I remember the smells. I remember the offshore breezes, the texture of the gray paint on the front porch of our cottage, the smell of the well water as it poured into the buckets out of the squeaking pump. I remember the old swing set with the rusted sliding board, and my dad’s car parked in the driveway. And my dad always with his black lunchbox and a candy bar for his boy. These are just some, and as I write these things, a tear and sighing gasp comes to me. For it tears at my heart, I am sentimental over those times, for they were indeed, the best times; they were the innocent, safe, and memorable times of my life. If a man can be in love with a thing, then I am in love with moments, with that history of my childhood. For it is where my destiny was honed, where a poet was wrought from dusty summer roads and summer skies. I am most grateful for those times spent there, were it not for these memories, and were it not for the recollections of so many years ago. I fear that I would have been a different man. I am fortunate to have had those experiences, to have had those moments with which to reflect upon. So this sentimental poet ends his walk for now, with hopes of returning to Old Lake Road again and again. Peace of mind can only be achieved when we find peace with self |
||
| © Copyright 2009 W.B. Burkholder - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
This is wonderful. I especially enjoyed quote: Enjoy the birth of remembering; it will cause you to smile at the oddest times.  |
||
|
Burk28 Member
since 2009-01-08
Posts 80Michigan USA |
HIya sunshine, thank you very much Peace of mind can only be achieved when we find peace with self |
||
|
critical mass Member
since 2009-03-25
Posts 275Michigan |
The Grayling area will definitely have that effect on you. Ahhhh Higgins Lake in the summer. |
||
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
quote: That's the gem I'd like to see you explore. I'm betting you'll find life lessons in there worth sharing. A lovely write. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, |
||
|
fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
Nostalgia's always a good inspiration. This kinda reminded me of my own upbringing. My family wasn't very well to do and so I had to use my own imagination. We couldn't afford a lot of the trappings of modern life. I guess that's how you make a writer.... Life's short. Think hard! |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
