In my mind, I see a brick house on the side of a hill, green encompassing it like a watercolour painting of perfection.
I can hear the creaking of the trampoline springs, the Battlefront soundtrack floating out of the PlayStation, through the rumpus room window downstairs.
The smell of casuarina trees and freshly baked bread still feels like nostalgia and safety to me.
Will homemade ginger-nuts and chocolate cake ever taste the same now that I am older and the world is never quite as beautiful as it once was?
I can hold the photos in my hands, run my fingertips over the shape of my old smile, but home and childhood is as evasive now as a breath of air at the bottom of the ocean.
About the Creator
Poppy
poetry in progress
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King5 days ago in Chapters
Comments (7)
A lovely poem that echoes the wonder and innocence of childhood. TS Eliot would love your poem.
This was heartwarming and breaking all in one... the way you painted that sense of nostalgia and then ripped it away from us with the reminder that nothing is ever the same!! Simply brilliant, Poppy!!
I felt that. Sadly, the cake will never taste the same, except in our memories.
Beautifully written nostalgic sensory poem… interesting combination: casuarinas & hot bread.😊
Oh wow that just gave me the good chills
Love this but I too miss the youth days that are long gone and faded, great writing poppy
Love this but hate how accurate the sentiment is! Well done, Poppy!