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Sunday, October 22, 2017

The Gate was open

by JennyT (writer), Melbourne Australia, September 10, 2013

fingertips trace the suede that swaddles the comfy place we’d sit and watch old movies

fingertips trace the suede

that swaddles the comfy place
we’d sit and watch old movies
leaving imprints of my identity
across where you’d lay your arm

the kitchen table where we shared
our meals and laughter from the day or
serious conversations on world
events with stifled yawns from me ~
sits barren

looking sideways to the crooked frame
hanging on the wall; giggles remembered
and stamped feet, how you never hung it
straight ~ the memories of ‘us’ ~ just
simple things

the gate not mended; the grout worn and
fallen; rubbish stacked behind the shed
it would be cleared ‘one day’ ~ things undone
things left; importance now ~ very little
within our walls of home, love held
between four fences ~ that had value

we broke down, distracted by so many things
sweet madness; sweet love of ours
disappeared between the palings
as you drifted out of reach and
that’s what mattered

now with suitcases
at my feet ~ my sweaty hand grips
the handle of the unpainted
door ~ the unfinished
I must say adieu

©JMTacken2013



About the Writer

I am the Author of The Empty Nest- A Mother's Hidden Grief. (EPub) This is available through Lulu and Amazon. The memoir is the story of my life as a mother, with an emphasis on the unspoken grief, which accompanies the process of letting go of one’s children as they grow up. As much as a mother loves her children, she must endure, at many stages of their growth, the pain of losing them. The inevitable “cutting of the ties” culminates when the day arrives for her children to leave home. For many women, this time coincides with profound personal changes of menopause and fiftieth birthdays. My own recent experience of this process prompted me to revisit my life as a mother, and to delve into the journals which I had kept since I was pregnant with my two daughters, some twenty years ago. The journals reveal the learning curves of motherhood and I was able to use this material to form both the chronological backbone of the memoir, and to expose the “heart” of the story in the touching and personal moments that I had recorded. Here are the links if you are interested. http://www.lulu.com/shop/j-m-kadane/the-empty-nest-a-mothers-hidden-grief/ebook/product-20361003.html https://www.amazon.com/author/jmkadane
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5 comments on The Gate was open

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By amity_007 on September 11, 2013 at 12:45 pm

It's great Jenny... :) Lovely

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By JennyT on September 12, 2013 at 12:43 am

Thank yo so much Amity - appreciate your kindness. :-)

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By Uttam Gill on September 12, 2013 at 01:18 am

Nothing can be as painful as parting...Certain moments etched forever and from dreary past retrieving the best times to weigh loss and gains of life… you have made a journey back into the time and revisiting itself makes reasons of parting difficult and the perplexity in natural mode restrain the move further...However, the concluding lines wins over the perplexity and though bit confused with sweaty hand you grips the handle of the unpainted door…this say it very loudly that poet has made up a mind...to part “Now with suitcases at my feet ~ my sweaty hand grips the handle of the unpainted door ~ the unfinished I must say adieu”

Amazing are the ways of life…On to the unchartered route when we have to embark many questions comes to our mind…But those who leave they certainly say with all honesty and firmly…”I must say adieu”…This poem so beautifully you have carved your emotions..so beautifully you have summed up…and also left an indelible mark of mysticism that what exactly happened…Jenny, that’s how a good writing stir the mind of a reader…

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By Uttam Gill on September 12, 2013 at 01:18 am

Nothing can be as painful as parting...Certain moments etched forever and from dreary past retrieving the best times to weigh loss and gains of life… you have made a journey back into the time and revisiting itself makes reasons of parting difficult and the perplexity in natural mode restrain the move further...However, the concluding lines wins over the perplexity and though bit confused with sweaty hand you grips the handle of the unpainted door…this say it very loudly that poet has made up a mind...to part “Now with suitcases at my feet ~ my sweaty hand grips the handle of the unpainted door ~ the unfinished I must say adieu”

Amazing are the ways of life…On to the unchartered route when we have to embark many questions comes to our mind…But those who leave they certainly say with all honesty and firmly…”I must say adieu”…This poem so beautifully you have carved your emotions..so beautifully you have summed up…and also left an indelible mark of mysticism that what exactly happened…Jenny, that’s how a good writing stir the mind of a reader…

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By JennyT on September 12, 2013 at 01:28 am

Uttam - what can I say..I am at a loss for words (and that does not happen often) I can only say that I thank you so very much for your generous compliment on my work. As the writer I am pleased that it left that indelible mark upon you, the reader and that you took the time to write back with such postivity and encouragement - I am humbled- thank you.

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