Sweet Walls

Poetry isn’t my strong point but occasionally I dabble and occasionally it works.

One of my poems, Sweet Walls, was short listed and published in a Photobook as part of the Mudgee Valley Writers ‘More Than Words” competition. The other entry, The Rainbow, was highly commended.

“What would you say sweet walls, if you could speak?”

Sweet Walls was a poem about my childhood home. My mum, husband and I visited it in March 2018, one year after my Dad passed away unexpectedly from a stroke. It was an emotional visit. The house was empty; Mum’s beautiful garden gone; the old dairy overgrown.

All the laughter was missing. The tears. Hopes. Dreams. Nothing left but an empty shell. There’s no going back. Only forwards. That realisation hit me as violently as the lightning that destroyed one of the large gum trees when I was a child. I stared at our old home, soaking in the memories. That’s all that’s left. Memories and photographs.

I could still picture my Dad walking between the house and the dairy. Striding out to collect the cows. Sitting on the verandah drinking a beer, smoke in hand after a long, hard day.

Not a day goes by when I don’t think of him.

Miss him.

Wish we could have one more day.

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