From every corner
of Grandma’s small cottage,
I could hear it –
the old metal clock,
ticking and tocking
on the kitchen windowsill.
Grandma’s house was that peaceful.
My four year old heart drank in
the safety and serenity,
the way a parched sunflower
gratefully receives
summer rain.
Grandma’s house
showed me, child of
drinking and violence,
that another life
- that peace -
was possible.
was possible.
I followed that template
for the rest of my life,
and modeled it
for my own grandchildren.
for the rest of my life,
and modeled it
for my own grandchildren.
When I am remembering,
it is to this small cottage
on Christleton Avenue
my thoughts return,
like summer swallows.
it is to this small cottage
on Christleton Avenue
my thoughts return,
like summer swallows.
I can still almost hear
the ticking and tocking
of that metal clock
on the kitchen windowsill,
singing its brave little song
of peace.
My sister and I went back to Kelowna in May to find that Grandma's cottage, touchstone of my childhood, is now gone.
What a beautiful poem. Thank you Grandma for being the major influence and joy in Sherry's life which so many of us derive benefit from. God bless Grandma ! Oh and Grandpa too . The house may be gone but the love and memory remains forever.
ReplyDelete"My four year old heart drank in
ReplyDeletethe safety and serenity"
I feel it in this poem, my new favorite of yours. Now I hear the clock ticking. How wonderful to have that peace.
That clock ticking its song of peace...what a powerful, poignant force that memory is...beautiful, Sherry...so glad you had this refuge during the stormy years.
ReplyDeletePeace is so precious that even a four year old can feel the safety and serenity of it. The lines are so appealing!
ReplyDelete"I followed that template
for the rest of my life,
and modeled it
for my own grandchildren."
How beautiful and wonderful Sherry. Such a heartfelt poem!
You did it, Sherry, you gave me a moment of peace - allowed me to borrow your memory and find solace. That noise of the clock, you conjured it for all of us. I am so sorry to hear the cottage is no longer there. But they can never take away that memory. Lovely. Amy
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful poem which vividly conveys the gift of sanctuary and peace. So love the background sound of that clock - Jae
ReplyDeleteSuch an atmospheric poem, Sherry, I was there in the cottage with you. I love how you begin with and end with the sound of the clock, and these lines, which reminded me of how I felt at my grandmother’s house:
ReplyDelete‘My four year old heart drank in
the safety and serenity,
the way a parched sunflower
gratefully receives
summer rain.’