photos from blog.wellappointedhouse.com
There is a dangerous old woman
who lives in the forest.
Her house is whittled inside a tree trunk,
and her music is the rainfall on the leaves.
"Whu-hoo", says the owl
on the cobbled doorstep,
blinking her yellow eyes
and rustling her feathers.
"To enter, you must have passed
sixty years of seasons.
The map of your life
must be drawn upon your face,
and your eyes droop with
sadness and the memory
of your journey.
Yes. You are
sad enough and wise enough
to pass."
I enter and, within, the fire is blazing.
A grizzled white-haired crone bends
to pour my tea.
"And what are you wondering?
What question brings you here?"
she asks,
dipping a dainty finger
in her teacup
and stirring.
"What do I have to do,
to have my dwelling in a tree?"
"Grow back your clipped wings,
and remember how to fly."
One from 2013, kids, posted at Real Toad's Tuesday Platfom. Because I am in need of a cup of tea. And wings.
Ah, I like the idea of having a dwelling in a tree too. That would be awesome, especially if it had such a swing! Smiles.
ReplyDelete"Grow back your clipped wings,
ReplyDeleteand remember how to fly."
One is often crippled by comforts or calamities that the initiative to adjust or even to overcome are not there anymore. Brilliant write Sherry!
Hank
I could enter too! Love this! Sherry, this could be made into an animated film, so it would be good for the midweek motif on animation as well--though I know you have a new poem almost everyday!
ReplyDeleteI actually tried to reach back and look for those wings.. what an excellent idea, and I would like a swing like in the lower picture to go with the house.
ReplyDeleteOh, is that all? LOL. A beautiful write, as always.
ReplyDeleteoh, my, delicious!!!!
ReplyDelete"Grow back your clipped wings and remember how to fly" We must all do that.
Oh how nice to recall one' s youthfulness, nice tea visit
ReplyDeleteHave a good Tuesday; I'm happy you stopped by to read mine
Much love...
Remember how to fly... a great lesson in your lovely poem!
ReplyDeleteLove it, Sherry. And besides, sixty really isn't that old. The doctors now-a-days are doing wonders to make us live longer, I would be dead without some of their help.
ReplyDeleteI love the poem, tree house and all. You make it very livable, just grow back the wings. My tree house I shared with my sister but it was MINE, I made it.
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This is such a wonderful story, and I greatly appreciate how well narrated it is. I also love the respect that the younger character has for the elderly character. The elderly woman actually reminds me of a female version of Radagast from The Hobbit movie (the brown wizard).
ReplyDeleteIf I see a swing not in use I have to have a go. The little kids and their mothers look very annoyed waiting their turn ...:)
ReplyDeleteSigned
Mean Old Woman:)
This is a good one, Sherry!
ReplyDeleteKnock, knock ~ it's me, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteSherry I want to have tea with the lady in the tree! And Oh, I love this: "and her music is the rainfall on the leaves."
ReplyDeleteOh, "remember how to fly", is that all? Ah, but one is never too old to rediscover the child within!
ReplyDeleteImmaculate...it was like watching a movie, Sherry! Wish, I could share my Indian cuppa with this lady ...awesome! Super like this piece...!!
ReplyDeleteOh, love! I want to go there. Fly there!
ReplyDelete