Poetry: October 28, 2020 Issue [#10439] |
This week: Travel Back in Time Edited by: Fyn More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
I grew up in the prolonged survival of the great age of the horse, with harness and saddle and sleigh bells and horse pictures, not as antiques but the facts of our lives. ~~Paul Engle
I like cluttered, old, dark-wood antiques. I like character. ~~Martha Plimpton
I do like silver. I love antiques. I collect Georgian glass at home. When you think about how fragile that it is and think about how long these things have lasted - some of it is 400 years old - I find the history of these things extraordinary. ~~Anthony Warlow
I'm inspired by antiques. I look at things that have a wink to the past but are also reinterpreted in some way and made to feel modern.~~ Jessica Chastain
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ASIN: 0995498113 |
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Ten, twelve years ago, my husband and I found his mother's wedding gown in an old trunk downstairs. His parents were married in 1934. Next spring, our granddaughter will be married in that antique, old-fashioned, intricate lace gown with an eighteen-inch waist. I couldn't believe it fit our grandchild. It does and she looks lovely in it. She's fascinated by the old lace patterns. We tried to match the pattern for a veil, but, apparently, they quite making it in 1941.
Seeing her in the dress, watching her examine the lace, enjoying the look on her face - bedazzled, excited, dreamy - all made my fingers itch for a pencil. We ended up going through the trunk together. Hours flew past as I told her of age-old customs like calling cards, spoke of how a lady never went out without her gloves and hat and explained what finger bowls were. Then, I unearthed another trunk. This one, my grandmother's grandfather's trunk. We meandered down Memory Lane and cut over to Way Back When where she squealed over long-drop pearl earrings, a marcasite ring, and tarnished silver spoons. She asked for the story about the old walnut bed and dresser upstairs that came from the family farm in the 1830s. She ran her hands through the old button basket; her fingers dripping antique buttons like rubies and emeralds.
We went through another trunk of old photographs, daguerreotypes, and letters written in the mid-1800s. She couldn't understand why one lady talked of a six-hour trip from here to Lansing. I reminded her that horses only trotted a wagon at around eight miles an hour. A forty-five-minute jaunt today took all day long back then and was a major undertaking. Our fast-paced lives of today compared to even sixty years ago let alone almost 200 years ago was mind-boggling for her.
Then she said she was glad that I could tell her these things and that I needed to write it all down for her so she could tell her kids and her grandkids someday. The look on her face when I told her that it would be such ancient history to her grandkids; that even her life would seem so strange to them. She smiled and said she hoped her daughter would wear her great-great-grandmother gown someday. Wouldn't that be special!
We all have those old pictures, Great Aunt Louisa's fussy whatchamacallit, or some of Grampa's tools. Our grandmother's pearls hide in the bottom drawer of the jewelry box along with prom tickets from forty years ago. These are stories waiting to be told. They are poems begging to be written! |
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| | Old Sandals (E) Old things in the back of the closet like a skeleton--a revelation poem #1399502 by Joy |
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Perhaps one day, our children or grandchildren will look back to the year of the great pandemic as we once thought about the plague! One day, our kids will be left behind to sort through all of the stuff we have accumulated in our lives. Some ways more than others; but we all have 'stuff.' Wouldn't it be cool to be digging through these things and have them come across poems or a few lines, or even an entire story about old Uncle Elmer's possibles bag (do YOU know what a possibles bag is?) or Grandmother Jenny's patchwork wedding ring quilt from 1848. Maybe they will come across Auntie Ren's artwork, Grand's favorite book, or one of Aunt Audrey's crocheted alpacas. Point is, those poems can forge a lasting link in the most magical and lasting ways. |
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