
Today’s Prompt: Describe the feeling of nostalgia and longing in your poem.

Today’s Prompt: Describe the feeling of nostalgia and longing in your poem.

If These Walls Could Talk
If these walls could talk
they’d tell mom’s stories
of her younger years
and the adventures of
family and friends
throughout our lives
They’d tell of wonders
how that first date would go
while sister curled my hair
and put makeup on
my 12 year old face
while I perspired in her dress
They’d offer witness of each brother
who came home on military leave
to celebrate accomplishments
and share family life
and visits to old buddies
They’d tell of phone calls
from far away, from old friends
who never forgot relationships
were more important than things
These walls would tell of tears
laughter, hugs, kisses goodnight
and all the life held in between
these floral papers, these quiet walls
if only, they could talk
Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld (c)

Memories of happy times in our lives are such blessings. I wish there had been a record of all the stories my mother alone would tell. As I am working on recording these, to the best of my memory, tears come and my heart warms. Later in his life, I recorded stories of daddy and his telling of his World War II service. I treasure that tape and the document created.
As I was working on Caring for Souls, what helped me is to look at old photographs of growing up. This has brought up so many memories that I am continuing to work in this process for another book.
Sometimes, we end up being the one who has been involved with caring for others or having others care for us. Mom did not care for having to be cared for, but it happened just the same. It was the love that was shared between and outside the walls that built these kind of relationships.
Are you caring for someone now? Please share in the comments. I want to hear about it, if you are comfortable.
May all your walls be covered with memories via photos, art, and more.

The Spirit of Music Plays On
As I look at the tan shaded keys of the piano
Crackled dingey and peeling
Melodies are now memories
Of the time when elegance was about tea and piano time
When we all dressed proper and sang deep from the soul
Just as when we faced the hurricanes
We gathered at the farm
Secured the property
Gathered by the waiting piano
Until the master touched the keys
And all worries of wind and rain
Were belted out to calm the storms
And we survived
Our dear piano survived
Always leaving us with peace
Each day was another day of hope
Ballads and nursery tunes alike
Grew the spirit
Another moment to survive
Another moment to love
And as we faced the pandemic
The old soul piano was still there with us
Some have passed on
But the music remained
It comforted us as we once again gathered
And realized that all the riches of the world
Could not do more than the riches of knowing
We had each other
We still had music
We still had soul
Looking at the old piano
Abandoned by time and loss
I leave a yellow rose of joy
For time has leant more than anything else
And I am grateful for the song
Lisa dressed up for 1st teen dance.
This was a moment of my life
It had to happen to enjoy my first dance
It was at my Kentucky school
Student council raising money
Created a Valentine’s date match
Sweaty palms and pencil in hand
This one signed up for a date
All for the Valentine’s dance
Twelve years old seventh grade student
Unsure of how to prepare
In stepped my big sister
After dying her red dress
And sharing her white blouse
She carefully applied my makeup
An expert of creating beauty
Nervously excited to meet my date
Daddy dropped me at the school
Along came my selected date
At his side was his girlfriend
Nice to meet you and moved on
As my mind was some confused
I shook it off when
On came the music
And it took one song
As sure as it was Chubby Checker
I was sure to do The Twist
Guess who won the twist contest
That was my family tradition
It was a good night
And that’s how it’s done
When life changes moments
Make it a good time
Today I decided to do a combination of prompts. My own prompt Let’s Twist and that of Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides. What’s your poem of the day?
Still twisting at age 13
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