Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
Moderator: Shelley Hansen
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8156
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
PREMONITIONS ...Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
Back then I was younger, our romance, was sweet, an affair of the heart.
Our lives and our love close entwined then, and no thought that one day we'd part.
You gave me a chain with a locket, rose gold filigreed, dainty, sweet
I confess to this day I wear it and without it I feel incomplete.
A striped blue and red antique loveseat, overlooked a wisteria bower
whose shade had often sheltered lovers who whiled away many an hour,
'neath fragrant white and purple blossoms, soothed by the buzz buzzing of bees.
Their passions fuelled by the sweet perfumes, and cooled by the soft ocean breeze. ....
The gates of the villa were open - I pondered, should I step inside
I knew every crevice and corner and now had no secrets to hide.
A lifetime ago I once lived here and thought once that here I would die,
but fate seems thought differently to me ... those memories still make me cry
There was no one round for the asking permission to venture within
and then a small sign I did notice - in shadows where the light was dim.
It seemed that the Villa was vacant, for sale at bargain basement price
No reason was given, nor time frame - just a number and details precise.
I knew that I had to find answers - 'twould haunt me were I to ignore
the reason it was on the market, abandoned upon the sea shore.
It hurt to see it so neglected ... we once had been so very close,
I rang up and spoke to the agent - a gentleman somewhat verbose.
The story he shared it was tragic - a family death and a crime.
A young life far too early taken ... I knew that, for that life was mine.
The crime he claimed a crime of passion, the husband was sentenced and hung.
The woman's body undiscovered - clear evidence showed what he'd done.
Bloodstains on the mattress and carpet, drag marks on the stairs and the door,
a discarded knife in the garden. The DNA pointed for sure
towards the young wife who was missing with no reason for her demise
except for a bloke prone to violence, savage and known to brutalize....
The story he told me was chilling - a warning that struck to my heart,
I took off my rose coloured glasses and knew 'twas a warning to part.
I woke from my long restless slumber, sleepwalking no more in my dreams
and recalled the messages sent me, and imagined the terrible screams.
I packed up my bags, without thinking a minute longer of my plight
and walked through the doors of the Villa- my journey booked on the next flight.
I'd ignored the flashes of violence, and sometimes thought it was my fault
but age brings wisdom to our thinking - truth saw love with danger was fraught.
And one can't go back and one shouldn't, for some memories just bring tears
and it was a moment of weakness that saw me retrace all those years.
Was my fate altered by the message or did Karma materialize?
I don't know but sometimes I wonder. The marriage was a tissue of lies.
Back then I was younger, our romance, was sweet, an affair of the heart.
Our lives and our love close entwined then, and no thought that one day we'd part.
You gave me a chain with a locket, rose gold filigreed, dainty, sweet
I confess to this day I wear it and without it I feel incomplete.
A striped blue and red antique loveseat, overlooked a wisteria bower
whose shade had often sheltered lovers who whiled away many an hour,
'neath fragrant white and purple blossoms, soothed by the buzz buzzing of bees.
Their passions fuelled by the sweet perfumes, and cooled by the soft ocean breeze. ....
The gates of the villa were open - I pondered, should I step inside
I knew every crevice and corner and now had no secrets to hide.
A lifetime ago I once lived here and thought once that here I would die,
but fate seems thought differently to me ... those memories still make me cry
There was no one round for the asking permission to venture within
and then a small sign I did notice - in shadows where the light was dim.
It seemed that the Villa was vacant, for sale at bargain basement price
No reason was given, nor time frame - just a number and details precise.
I knew that I had to find answers - 'twould haunt me were I to ignore
the reason it was on the market, abandoned upon the sea shore.
It hurt to see it so neglected ... we once had been so very close,
I rang up and spoke to the agent - a gentleman somewhat verbose.
The story he shared it was tragic - a family death and a crime.
A young life far too early taken ... I knew that, for that life was mine.
The crime he claimed a crime of passion, the husband was sentenced and hung.
The woman's body undiscovered - clear evidence showed what he'd done.
Bloodstains on the mattress and carpet, drag marks on the stairs and the door,
a discarded knife in the garden. The DNA pointed for sure
towards the young wife who was missing with no reason for her demise
except for a bloke prone to violence, savage and known to brutalize....
The story he told me was chilling - a warning that struck to my heart,
I took off my rose coloured glasses and knew 'twas a warning to part.
I woke from my long restless slumber, sleepwalking no more in my dreams
and recalled the messages sent me, and imagined the terrible screams.
I packed up my bags, without thinking a minute longer of my plight
and walked through the doors of the Villa- my journey booked on the next flight.
I'd ignored the flashes of violence, and sometimes thought it was my fault
but age brings wisdom to our thinking - truth saw love with danger was fraught.
And one can't go back and one shouldn't, for some memories just bring tears
and it was a moment of weakness that saw me retrace all those years.
Was my fate altered by the message or did Karma materialize?
I don't know but sometimes I wonder. The marriage was a tissue of lies.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
- Shelley Hansen
- Posts: 2269
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Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
A sad story but a fascinating one, Maureen - a good mix of the real and the imagined, leading to a thoughtful climax.
Cheers
Shelley
Cheers
Shelley
Shelley Hansen
Lady of Lines
http://www.shelleyhansen.com
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
(CJ Dennis "The Mooch o' Life")
Lady of Lines
http://www.shelleyhansen.com
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
(CJ Dennis "The Mooch o' Life")
- Catherine Lee
- Posts: 1384
- Joined: Mon May 14, 2012 9:47 pm
- Location: Thailand
Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
Ah yes Maureen, I totally agree with Shelley - a sad but intriguing story that keeps you reading, and then going back to read again...Atcually, I think my mind was travelling along a vaguely similar track with both rhyme scheme and theme...will post it soon.
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Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
Good on ya Maureen. Is that what they call "women's intuition"
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
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- Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 6:53 pm
Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
You have come up with a great story Maureen, and it weaves its way right through your poem, and so topical.
I wonder how many women are subject to this thing.
Terry
I wonder how many women are subject to this thing.
Terry
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8156
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
Thank you all for you kind comments - not sure where the muse found this one - it came out of left field, but that is often the way isn't it? 

Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
- Wendy Seddon
- Posts: 446
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 5:20 pm
- Location: Medowie NSW
Re: Homework w/e 28.5.18 - PREMONITIONS
Love it!
When does the movie come out?
When does the movie come out?
Wen de Rhymewriter There is nothing mundane about the ordinary.