Poems 6 | gisellemarks

Family.

Dolls' Houses

Life throws some unexpected turns,

Nothing’s new but it all changes,

Even an old dog sometimes learns

A new trick often exchanges

For a predicted ending

Some unfamiliar bending

Some twist of fate,Let me relate…

My children are all my priceless joy,

A blessing given by the Lord

A boy, three girls and a final boy,

I can boast I truly scored,

When God gifted them to me,

Beautiful, clever, and no trouble,

I tell you straight, you must agree,

With them I won the Grand Prix.

Nothing ever can burst that bubble.

I now possess a lonely empty nest,

Knowing they love their Mum, I cry

For my kids are the very best,

I taught them well; then let them fly!

Nothing will ever take away

My memories and maternal pride

Of them growing and at play,

And so my tears are dried.

Now lovers of their own they’ve found,

Babies born, admired and grown,

With Beauty fresh, their talents astound

From what we’d long ago sown.

But it is wonderful what they’ve become,

With no exceptions every one,

Are special, the world is better for their being

Because their love is what I’m seeing.

Easter Morning

Easter Morning text to wish me a glorious day

Love in letters from far away

Means so much that she thought

Of me while dwelling in her idyll

Newly wed and so in love.

Found space in her heart for me.

Yesterday the house was full,

They planted flowers around

My garden and mowed my lawn

Practical love, more valued than pearls

Cuddles galore and company,

To comfort my lonely day.

Now I eat my egg alone and wish them well

I could visit but I do not want to go.

I’ll write and eat a simple meal

And know they care what I feel

That they want to make me happy, even if

They do not understand why I sit and write.

Even though they do not read my stories

Or value my successes or my glories.

They might think me strange

But still they love and worry

When I am sad and so in pain

Their love exists to keep me sane.

History Men

Artistically windswept or closely cropped

With such arrogance they stare at me

Daring me to criticise their vanity.

Those men from so long ago

Still have such power to sway me

To feel their presence even now

And care about what they had to say.

The artists made them live anew

And their words bring them back to me.

From brief lives of glorious glamour

Dying tragically far too young

Yet they seem to have only begun

Burning me with their fire.

How their ghosts still inspire

And seep into my soul

Those men long gone,

Yet my fascination only grows

They wander through my thoughts

And will not be dismissed.

They want me to believe their

Short existence was worth while

They need my love to warm their bones

Even in cold death they reach for my

Heart and I cannot refuse

Them and so I sigh.

But their force and attraction

Impels my adoration for

Those great men of action,

Those poets of yore

I worship from the future

And wish I could give more.

I wish to touch and embrace

To hear them speak or to praise,

And with necromancy raise

Their corporeal bodies back on earth

So I may experience the truth

Of their existence.

I had a doll’s house when I was little,

A simple dwelling not a palace

Chip-board and plastic it was brittle

And much battered.

I never told my parents it was too small

That I dreamed of mansions grand enough

For my fairy princesses to sprawl.

I drew plans for castles.

With ballrooms, chapels and throne rooms,

tables, gardens and garages,

With space for the maids and grooms,

To live in comfort.

The floor plans complete with swimming pool,

I drew and designed so many times,

I chose no décor, you may think me a fool,

But space I sought.

Then I saw a princess’s doll’s residence,

Hand-woven carpets, delicate porcelain

Silver tureens of utter extravagance,

All craftsman made.

My imagination never stretched so far beyond

My own family and simple circumstance

Had the Princess waved her magic wand

Dreaming of fairy castles?

Or had she gloried in every pretty thing

That filled her puppets dwelling?

Specially made for the daughter of a king

And been content?

But someone built a fairy castle for their dolls

It sparkles and glistens, full of bling

Magical with fairy tales unfolding and trolls

To loom outside.

I stare with eyes wondering at the grown up’s toy

A thing of beauty with much time spent

But had the money spent brought her any joy?Sadness hung there In all that precious glittering mansion

Loneliness dwelt with the fairy figures

Holding happiness to ransom,

For no return.

Locks, blocks & passwords

I find keys that fit no lock

But don’t throw them away

They never reach the bin,

Perhaps magic saves them

Or is their disposal a sin?

We need locks to keep safe

Loved ones and treasures

From those who would take.

But no one measures

How locks and keys break

Our trust and make us look

Askance at strangers

Do we lose more than we keep?

Being dogs in mangers

Or is honour now so cheap?

Do we lock our thoughts inside?

Fearing that if others could see

Our essence, we’d be weak

When they know our reality

Am I scared if they took a peek

Within the walls that I have built

And discover who I really am

Behind my blocks and fences,

Am I a dishonest sham,

Hiding behind my defences?

Do I run from revealing myself?

Or block out their minds

To realise they’re so shallow and

How little is behind their blinds.

Tear down the walls and brand

Them criminal. Then we could see

What is so carefully hid

Then we’d be able to understand

If we could only lift the lid

The worth of shaking each man’s hand.

Do we need passwords to unlock

The deeps of each others’ souls?

Or just a hammer to knock

Down their walls to reach our goals?

Would love be easier if we knew,

The stories they hide within,

The pictures their minds drew

Of yourself without the verbal spin?