I’m sure a lot of people can relate to leaving the home they were brought up in with all the memories it held over the years. I lived in 517 Carnlough Road, Cabra West and I remember years after my parents had passed on and the house was sold I took a trip to Cabra and walked by the house and in my mind I could hear the voices of my family behind that hall door that had lasted all my years when growing up there. I wrote this poem remembering the house and the wonderful times I had when I was young living there.
A New Door to Open
The smell of turf upon the fire
The curtains pulled to stop the draught
The glowing embers heating us
The stories told that made us laugh
The dresser with the plates on show
On top the floral jugs displays
A place for storing our knick- knacks
And contents of some early days
The parlour where the furniture shines
Unused in truth it was just for show
The decorative mirror hung on the wall
The lampshade that cut down the glow
And upstairs where statues stare
And watch you as you go to bed
As on your knees you prayed to them
Did they listen to each prayer you said?
And our hall door was our outside pride
Painted bright for all to see
The years it opened and it closed
The coming and going of our history
The years have passed the house still stands
New owners there have changed it all
The dressers gone and the ornaments too
No pile of turf against the wall
The windows changed to draught free ones
No parlour furniture anymore
The mirror thrown upon a skip
The one thing left is the old hall door.
That door had seen our family days
Those good times that our family had
And the last time that we pulled it closed
Was a time in life that made us sad
By Tony Gorman
What great and happy memories…
Indeed Martin
We have all been there when the closing of a door for the last time starts a new life but we will always hold the happy memories we had living there deep in our hearts.
Hello Tony, terrific to know you are still writing. Thanks for the update and info on this site too.Kindest regards.Jo
The Old Chestnut Tree
Under the spreading chestnut tree I pondered for a while
And touch the trunk in wonderment of its roots within the soil
For to bear a weight such as this the grip is deep below
And the water that it feeds on that makes it thrive and grow
And in its foliage small birds nest when springtime comes its way
And protects them till they fledge their nest and stealthy fly away
And in its base the mice and shrews find homes away from all
A place they will find comfort in that’s safe when predators call
And the old owl will hoot its hoot on the branches of this tree
As I spare my thoughts to be inspired for all it does for me
As its branches they stretch out to reach the sky above
Like arms embracing all around in an act of nature’s love
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I love to see some of our old trees with all the features that do so much for nature’s environment.
Over the years they have been an umbrella and a food source to all sorts of wildlife and have decorated our streets and our parks with their beauty.
Hi Jo
I’m very happy that you are enjoying my poems and the FRG site in general. It’s a great site for everything a lot of my friends get some great food recipes and they all love reading the posts. As a Dublin website it keeps us in touch with the comings and goings back home.
Keep up your poetry I love reading it.
Take care Jo
xxTony
Beautiful as always Tony! Thanks a lot!
Eoghan