Think Tank Thursday

Today, I did the prompt, at Poets United, I will be back to share my take on prompt #84 Home.
I think it will be interesting to write about.  How many homes have you lived in? Was there a favorite?

I will return, I already know the home I will write about, my childhood home.  I might add several other homes, where I hung more than a few hats. ;D

This was hard to write. My childhood home was recently sold. The owner is someone I know. He grew up in the neighborhood, many years before me. He is making many changes, but my memories serve me well and I remember it as it was when I lived there. The foundation of my youth and blueprint to my soul.

I think this is the longest poem I have ever written...

Up and down stairs memories
chase my inner child
I cross the threshold of  my youth
where my spirit was cradled and nurtured
in the open air, by the blue shadows of the sea
salty brine tickles my senses
a time worn wharf
was my picket fence 
aligned with perfumed welcome mat roses.

Waves of translucent thought blur edges
And dissipate in white n’ blue patterns
Like fragile, delicate china
Transformed waves wash over me
 Eroding the sharp memories
Seaside charm cascades ripples of laughter
 love and longing for another glance
Magic remains in hindsight’s view

Cold, bare bones now
skeleton key remains a mystery
Being rebuilt
the nooks n’ crannies were we(my brother n' I) hid will be lost
Time reflected porch still holds patina glider(new owner bought it)
Our magic carpet ride, our sailing ship, our dinosaur, our space portal
childhood home lost at sea
 I’m swept away, by a rogue wave of tears
 the lull of the seagull’s cries, foghorns and the splashes of the ocean’s waves
signal I am home

(my daughter took this photo of the lupine)

I'm transported 
to days traipsing the lupine lined shore
Governor’s Flag flies high waving to white caps
stair well reflects diamond window’s glow
Landscaped dreams dance by the waltzing seaside
Four seasons lend a trance of
Snow drops,
green piped vines climbing glassed-in porch
Huge red maples call all neighborhood kids to
rake the biggest pile
Come jump in

Sunlight’s gold illumination
Cascades her gold wavy hair through the house
Red braided rug tickles tip toes as collected roosters
Crow good morning
Fireplace embers dance in the music and capture warmth of the
Family room.
Stars viewed nightly on TV and by the moon’s swimming light
Mantel clock chimes Dad’s arrival
 as gale winds blow
Tall white sailing ships
into my dreams

Secret passage way, holds skeleton key
To mysteries unknown
The whispers of  my soul
Grew here until I discovered
my voice
Echoes of loved ones lingers
 Collected in mind’s eye their magic flirts with
The fringes of youth

Bright memories that burn your heart’s ember
they last a life time
Steady heart stays afloat
My soul dwells in her magic, her mystery with gratitude
Always my anchor, my childhood home~


Janet said…
Ella, the other week I had written a poem about Yes BEFORE I saw the prompt! This is too bizarre...I had a craving to write about home this morning...and NOW I see the prompt:) Coincidence or divinincidence? h-m-m-m!
I'll return later. I was going to work at bringing the 'sweet' back into our home today...I'm going to postpone it for just a little longer:)

See you later.
How many homes? Wow, at least a dozen, maybe more.
Liza said…
If we don't count college and apartments, then I've lived in four. If we count them, than many more...but my favorite is where I live now, and we've been her for 20 years in April.
Ella said…
Liza-I'm so jealous!!! I am a girl who loves roots, been here, going on 10yrs. I was thinking it was ll, but no it is 10.

Alex-I counted, 20 homes! You know this life, it is rarely dull~ :D

Janet-Okay, something is going on! Last time it was the "Yes" poem and now "Home"...can we align again?! We will see next week ;D
I look forward to your sweet words~
Hi Ella~
I love this post with the image of what home represents. As I get older it gains more relevance. Ive lived in my current home for almost 13 years and hope I never have to move. I moved plenty as a kid and just hate the thought of it.
Kay L. Davies said…
We've decided we're going to live here until they carry us out, but first I get a kitchen renovation. How great is that? Yay!
I couldn't begin to count. Oh, okay, I could begin, but I couldn't finish. Let's just say lots, and I never want to move again.
Scarlett Clay said…
We've lived in a few, about half a dozen or so in the last 10 years..your poem is a testimony to how many emotional ties and memories we have involving our homes, especially when we're young. I think it's awesome you're able to put your feelings into words!
Other Mary said…
It sounds like a wonderful home, wonderful place to grow up. You have some very lyrical descriptive phrases in this. I know it's difficult to have your first home sold and changed, but what a wonderful poem it's brought about. Thank goodness for memories and poems and photographs.
mshatch said…
Wow, that picture of the town from the water looks a lot like my little town.

As for your childhood home, I still remember mine, even dream I'm back there now and again.
Ella said…
mshatch-I'm from Maine ;D
Searsport, near the city of Belfast.
No place like home is there!

I like that you have those memories, they are the foundation of our souls~

Other Mary-Thank you, I went to long... I couldn't seem to stop, so many memories! Yes, thank goodness :D

Scarlett-Thank you! It is one of my favorite places in the world...

Kay-Yes, I can relate to your view. I will have to be dragged out of my home, now. I'm have been a professional mover, not by choice! Hope the kitchen of your dreams is in the works :D

Sharon-Yes, you have paid the dues!
I so hope you get to stay! There is nothing like making roots! Thanks for coming by to visit me~
rch said…
Wow an opus to the many 'stories' that make up a typical yet unique home, I have to read it again ;-)
Ella said…
rch-Thank you, I love what you wrote!
I should have shortened it, but found it hard. I still could write a few more poems about it. :D
Anonymous said…
This is a beautiful poem- like the old Playhouse of memories. Was nice reading you. :)
Lolamouse said…
What a lovely poem about your childhood home. My parents sold my childhood home a few years ago. At the time I didn't think I minded, but I've found myself recently getting sad and missing things. I think it's tough letting go of those childhood memories, well, not the memories but the physical location of the memories.
Old Ollie said…
great prompt, we are indeed all linked back to our childhood home.
Ella said…
Hi Ollie thank you, so true a wise monk knows this ; )

Lolamouse-I think you are right, do you have photos?
I think I am going to make a collage. I m waiting on some old wallpaper. I asked my mom to grab, tear some for me before she left. I guess we just need to link our memories into poems. Thank you

Yajnaa-Thank you for stopping by : )
I look forward to your words
Sad, but the memories of your home draw the reader in, so warm, so happy. As far as least 9 in childhood, 9 as an adult. That's counting apartments, though.

Shannon at The Warrior Muse, co-host of the 2012 #atozchallenge! Twitter: @AprilA2Z