My Grandmother’s House Held Dreams

Colleen Room in The Simmons-Bond House, locate...

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My grandmother’s house held dreams

Stacks of old papers there I read

Musty, abandoned rooms kept the themes


I would steal away upstairs all agleam

Creaky, narrow steps led me ahead

My grandmother’s house held dreams


There was a wrap-around porch with torn screens

Where once my father laid his summer’s bed

Musty, abandoned rooms kept the themes


Ghosts of secrets left scents upon my daydreams

The palpable puzzles I felt with a dread

My grandmother’s house held dreams


Dark corners kept their thoughts in regime

Multitudes of days long ago did I bade

Musty, abandoned rooms kept the themes


Stories that came forth weren’t widespread

Many lips were held fast with the dead

My grandmother’s house held dreams

Musty, abandoned rooms kept the themes

My first Villanelle

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28 Comments

  1. I loved the feel of the poem… my grandmom’s place is filled with nostalgia… the dark rooms and our old photographs fill the place…
    it remined me of that :d
    beautiful write

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  2. The upstairs of my grandmother’s home was pretty much unused–all these mysterious rooms with things left behind. Thanks for sharing and enjoying this poem, Rajlakshmi. I’m happy you did.

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  3. fabulous poem gayle. it must be great fun to visit her when you were kids. kids love such places where their imaginations will run wild.

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  4. Pseu

     /  January 16, 2011

    How brave to attempt a villanelle… I have never successfully managed one. Very successful and atmospheric

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    • Thank you, Pseu. I think it was kind of brave–it was tricky! I’m happy that you enjoyed it. I appreciate your generous comment.

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  5. Great villanelle.
    I keep meaning to tackle one of these.
    The repetions work really well.
    And if i may say so.
    The repeated line is golden

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    • I would love to read yours when you finally tackle one. And that’s a good description–I wrestled and tackled it to get it done! I so appreciate your kind words for me.

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  6. gracefulglider

     /  January 16, 2011

    taking me back to my childhood, and how it now always hold so much for me. My dreams are hung in one bedroom and under a huge Avocado tree in the backyard….

    Love where your poem has taken me 🙂
    L&L

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  7. So, so lovely. What dear memories. What a charming poem.

    My grandmother’s house meant order, but I had an uncle who’s house meant dreams and I had to poem about that too.

    Thanks for this! Perfect …

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    • I do have very special memories of that house. If you have a house like this in your life, you have to poem about it!

      So happy to bring you some enjoyment, Jamie.

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  8. You took me back years and years…

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  9. So much interesting things from the past: facts, stories, secrets, information, etc.

    The combination of dreams and themes, for me, flowed like hopes and disasters. Dreaming with the desire that they come true; stemming from motives (good or bad). There’s a happy sadness to this poem.

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    Reply
    • You caught the tone of the magical and somewhat secretive that I was going for here, Apollorose. My grandmother’s house felt happy/sad to me too–especially to me as an adult.

      Thanks so much for your insight and wonderful comment.

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      Reply
  10. This is beautiful. I love the mystery it has and the adventure.

    Like

    Reply

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