Everyday Ago

Nostalgia: A device that removes the ruts and potholes from memory lane. ~ Doug Larson

I remember clothes on the line,

sun-dried linens and windblown sheets,

sweet country air scented with pine.

The folded years of life repeats.

 

Raindrops on rooftops made of tin,

bare skin sinking into the earth.

Life was just so much simpler then,

the smallest things of greatest worth.

 

Picking green beans and shucking corn,

nodding rockers on the front porch,

the rooster’s crow the early morn

beneath the flame of day’s bright torch.

 

Castle Crawford cast iron stove

whose heat would drive you out the house,

paperback books - my treasure trove.

They were the field, and I the mouse.

 

Smell of wild onions freshly mowed,

Folgers perking in a glass top,

dust blowing off that old dirt road,

on either side the yellow crop.

 

The smell of rain after the storm,

the cool taste of a crystal stream,

open windows when days were warm,

sheer curtains blowing in my dream.

 

Tall, tall windows and hardwood floors,

open rafters of attic finds,

hand-carved mantels and stained-glass doors,

these are the haunts of older minds.

 

I find joy in reminiscing,

of making angels in the snow.

The days of old have gone missing,

but they were everyday ago.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Alla Antsis]

The flavors are unbelievable! your rhythm and rime are superb! Absolute delight in every sense ...Thank you

[Makhabat]

A pretty picture painted of simpler days when all was easy and carefree....and then we grow up and the whole scenery changes. And when it does it makes reminiscing on the past all the more precious. Some lovely description in your rhyming form.

[Relic]

Great title, Linda. And great poem. It makes me wish I could have been there with you to see all those things. I'm glad I read this...do we still have favorites on this site? I'm adding it. :)

[Relic]

I noticed the site wasn't acting right today. I'm unable to add to my favorites, but I'll try again another day. Great music btw.

[Kelly Scheppers]

Awesome title! I believe many will read this and be as captured by the dynamics of it as I was. It's life, the way we all remember it, in growing up. How beautifully and evocatively you've brought to life once again.

[willweb]

What a beautiful journey back into the past. Many of the mentioned memories I as well share and to think back to those days brings a few more to mind, playing baseball on vacant lots, waiting for the milkman to come to get some free ice in the summer, decorating your bicycle to ride in the Memorial Day parade, being at the newspaper store on Thursdays because that is the day the new comic books came out, using clothespins to attach baseball cards to the spokes of your bike...ok, I got carried away, sorry. I loved your poem but what I think I liked the best was the phrase "Everyday ago" What a wonderfully creative thought and a perfect theme and ending to this poem. Amazing my friend.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I was pleased to walk down memory lane with you. When I was a little girl, I used to love to read. I was a voracious reader. Unfortunately, we were poor and did not have the money for such luxuries. There was a little store downtown named, "Grandma and Grandpa's Paperbacks." I used to walk downtown every day to go to that store. The store owners allowed me to clean their store once a week; and in exchange, they would allow me to take a whole bag of books home. I would read them over the next week and then return them the next when I showed up to clean again. It was the best. Reading your memories, I would love to see your own version of "Everday Ago." :)

[willweb]

Oh my, what a beautiful story about the bookstore. I just loved that, that story is a poem in itself. You cannot even believe the smile I am wearing because you shared that with me. Thank you so much my friend. I just love that.
As far as your perhaps subtle suggestion, perhaps I will try to write one here in the future...stay tuned. : )

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I loved that old store. I was so proud every time I lugged that bag of books home. I used to drive my mother crazy. I'd be washing dishes; and I would open the cabinet doors above the sink and prop a book between two glasses and would read while I washing dishes. LOL! Wherever you saw me, there was a book. Best boyfriends ever! :)

[willweb]

It was probably nice having boyfriends you could read like a book. : )

[Lorry]

And not a cell phone in sight! The laundry on the line is one of those smells that instantly bring my childhood back, with freshly laundered sheets tucked tight around me and filling the room with that outside smell that fabric conditioner tries and fails to mimic.
We might not have had as much as the today kids, but we were never bored either, with their never ending collection of distractions. I wonder what their memories of childhood as adults will be. Probably broadband no doubt. 😊

[Chris Shaw]

Reading your beautiful memories brought many of my own to the fore. Especially Monday the start of the week and wash day. I had flashes of my mother pegging on the line. White cotton sheets, blowing in the breeze. She was smiling and she looked so happy. I thank you for that and the gift of your beautiful poetry that you share with us Linda.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you , Chris. Plucking the petals of memory was fun for writing this piece. Funny how certain things, seemingly so unimportant at the time, become so meaningful later in life.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

We still have a clothesline and a coffee pot with a glass percolator top. Most of my books are hardback but I still have a few paperbacks. I made snow angels with my daughter the last snow we had. There's a cornfield right behind our house where the wild Canada geese fly over every morning and sometimes I photograph the sunrise there. Crows come to visit too and sit in the trees like sentinels of the dawn. I miss stringing and snapping green beans with my mother on the porch. These days, I buy them frozen in the bag and cook them in the crockpot...there's some in there now. I don't have a cast iron stove but my grandmother had one in her house. I do have an eighty year old cast iron pan I use to make cornbread in. Sometimes I make banana bread in it as well. So... the past isn't completely gone, my friend, it still lives in those of us who remember and in some of us who just prefer the old to the new in many instances. I know I wouldn't give up my books for anything. The online virtual library is okay and I know it's portable with tablets and laptops but it won't replace a book that I can leave in the car without fear of overheating or being stolen by some random passerby. Anyway, I enjoyed the stroll down memory lane to things both near and dear to me. Thanks for sharing the lovely poetry. Bless, F.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Fabian. I'm so glad that you stopped by. I actually have a question for you. I had saved your poem, "The River's Way," as one of my favorites and went to share it with a friend yesterday and discovered that it is gone. You only have three pages of poems available. Do you delete your poems after a set period of time?

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Not as a standard rule but I deleted everything recently and started over with all new stuff.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

"The River's Way" should stay. It is a masterpiece, and I don't say that lightly. It really is special.

[divya]

Dear Linda,
An amazing poem on a wonderful childhood that took me right back to my own carefree and rustic one. I will write it soon.... Thank you for such inspiration in beautiful verses. ❤⚘

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You are so kind. Thank you, Divya.

[Ladysue]

Your poem read effortlessly as it brought me back to some of the same things that are forever ingrained in our senses. Love your last two lines. Creative title as well as creatively written.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Ladysue. I am glad that you stopped by and I appreciate the review.