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Saturday, March 23, 2019

Bitten


My parents were bitten by the collecting bug.
Searching for the next thrilling treasure.
Most with musty smells and sticking drawers...
But I could tell it gave them pleasure.

They never had an old crank phonograph,
But an out of tune piano sat in a room.
I would bang the keys on that old thing…
Until the spirits were freed from its tomb.

 There was a strange framed print of a girl,
With a wreath of flowers above her head.
It hung on the wall at the end of the hall…
Thank goodness it didn’t hang over my bed.

A grand chandelier cleaned and rewired,
Hung with pride from the living room ceiling.
After weeks of eerie flickering at night…
Taking it down was a mutual feeling.

I miss my parents and their antique quest.
I think I’ll go find an aisle to rummage through.
Let memories of yesterday flood my heart…
And find a vintage piece painted robin egg blue.



When I was a child my parents collected and refurbished,
antiques for many years. This photo brought back so many memories.
Thanks for the prompt, Carrie.


For “The Sunday Muse” and “Poets United”.
Photo: Pexels/Skitterphoto






44 comments:

  1. This is a wonderful memory of your dear parents Vicki. I love the rhyme and flow along with the beautiful sentiments they hold. Lovely writing as always!

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  2. This weaves an eeriness with warm family memories, to interesting effect.

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  3. Lovely trip down memory lane
    Treasured memories for you of your parents . .
    Love the rhyming Viki . . . :)

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  4. I can absolutely relate. Such a poignant write, Vicki!

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  5. An enchanting poem!!! Perhaps they were looking for memories, too?

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  6. Oh I can see them, carrying home their finds and refurbishing them with such pleasure. How lovely.

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  7. This reminds me so much of my mom in law. She gets so much joy in her treasure hunts.

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  8. How sweet it is at times to remember it all! It's so lovely to read this rhyme — it made me smile through and through. :-)

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  9. I love the searching for a piece painted robins egg blue.

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  10. My mother collected everything... and now we have to sort through all her things.

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  11. I love the nostalgia of this lovely poem, Vicki. When I was a child, my grandparents and great aunt all had old out of tune pianos in their parlours, where the family would gather for a sing-song. I used to love pounding on the keys and even learned to play, mostly by ear. I also remember musty smells and sticking drawers!

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    1. Thank you, Kim. It's nice my poem had you remembering those times.

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  12. This is a delightful lyrical piece - so tenderly drawn. A pleasure to read!

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  13. I love to read the rhyme...sweet memories.
    have a great day

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  14. Nice memories of a somewhat unusual childhood.

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  15. Such sweet memories, made even sweeter by the fact that they inspire you to follow on your parents steps (even if just a bit).

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  16. Luv the influence to go search foe a robin's egg blue. A charming poem of precious memories
    Thanks for dropping by my sumie Sunday Vicki

    Much💛🌻💛love

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  17. Lovely people your folks.. Collectors and refurbishers are carers of things.Nice way to grow up. Loved your poem.

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  18. A nice rummage through images that come alive with the telling.

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  19. Yes...Memories are the best collectibles, in the end!

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  20. what a charming write, and fond memories of your parents.
    your parents cared about things, they cleaned and made them work again, and isn't this good for the planet?
    A delight to read. :)

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  21. Lovely memories and rhyme, Vicki. Now go out and find a robin blue egg.

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  22. Sometimes it doesn't matter if the stuff was awful...it's in our DNA and we love it for the familiarity, yes? Not enough to keep it in place, but enough to miss it.

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