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Mustard House

Updated on August 5, 2013
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The mustard house~

 Sits so still~

A capsule in time~

 From my girlhood~

From up on the hill.

 

There still sits that~

 Mustard house.

As I go by~

 It dimly squats.

 

The outside not so much~

 Changed today~

 Except for the azalea bush~

 Bigger to the naked eye~

 I would have to casually say.

I am sure~

There are new owners~

By now~

With much different~

Living conditions~

Quiet or loud.



 

The mustard house~

 With old asbestos shingles~

 Stands faded from the~

 Years of Sun and rain.

As I remember depressingly~

 The inside being quite a bit~

 Under flustered strain.

 

 

The mustard house~

 When I was young~

 Was where I visited.

 Where I learned~

A Different life riveted style~

 Much in contrast to~

 Current methods~

In which I had been~

 Brought up in~

All the while.

 

There was a rabbit~

 In the house~

 Who knew exactly~

 Where it should go~

To my amazement~

With out a doubt~

 It really did know.

 

There were changing fathers~

 And / Or~

 Different men~

 Every year or so.

 

There were new husbands~

Whom locked a refrigerator~

 Kept in an up-stairs bedroom.

 Making sure~

 Seven children did not partake~

  Luxuries it had bestowed within~

Being a temptress alluring where it loomed~

Any touching of it considered a sin.

 

 

I remember one handsome man~

 With gold chains around his neck~

 Whom drove a powdered blue convertible~

 Which could also float~

Acting like a motor boat~

This still is now fascinating to me~

As back then~

 And now~

 I astounded do dote~

 That any such car could actually float.

 

There was yelling~

 I witnessed some hitting~

As a girl my age toiled~

Taking care of~

 The rest of~

 Her sibling brew~

It seemed her list~

 Endlessly grew.

 

This mustard house~

 Was always dark in-side~

 With a half clean smell~

A dankness of its very own~

Where always nine or ten or~

 More dwelt in this humbled abode.

 

Sometimes a band played~

 In the living room~

 Where children hoped to~

 Hear the TV~

 In the late afternoon.

 

The mustard house was not like mine~

 Yet important lessons~

 I did study.

How unique and different life styles were~

Not all were like my home~

 Or~

 Family I knew~

 From whom I had mostly learned.

Blessed there were negatives~

 I was able to spurn.

 

 

The mustard house~

Sits so still~

A capsule in time~

 From my girlhood~

From up on the hill.

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By

Lisa J. Warner

AKA

Lisa Luv

 

CopyRight6/1/2010@LisaLuvLLC

AllRightsReservedByLisaJ.Warner

 

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    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      4 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      MizBejabbers What kind words ...Thank you so much

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      4 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      blondey---thank you... I thought the tittle told a lot...

    • MizBejabbers profile image

      Doris James-MizBejabbers 

      4 years ago

      This left me breathless! Sometimes childhood memories loom so real. Thanks for sharing yours in such spellbinding poetry. As I read, I couldn't wait for the next verse. Voted up.

    • blondey profile image

      Blondey Hubpages 

      4 years ago

      Very interesting and I like the title :)

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      4 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      tillsontitan Your writings look awesome themselves! I am now following you! Thank you so much for your high comments on mine... Blessings!

    • tillsontitan profile image

      Mary Craig 

      4 years ago from New York

      An amazing piece with lots to say. Many memories and thoughts evoked here.

      Voted up, awesome, beautiful, and interesting.

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      4 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      ImKarn23 Thank you so much! Wishing you an awesome day!

    • ImKarn23 profile image

      Karen Silverman 

      4 years ago

      welllll...now we all know where that open and tolerant mind of yours comes from, don't we?

      it is a wonderful thing to be exposed to other people, cultures, lifestyles..

      it broadens horizons and as mentioned - minds as well!

      you are a true poet, Lisa- this is gorgeously written.

      i felt it.

      sharingxx

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      4 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      Eiddwen There you are my friend! You have so many on FACEBOOK worried??? I do hope all is well...you are greatly loved!!! HUGS!!!!! Thank you so much for your kind comment!

    • Eiddwen profile image

      Eiddwen 

      4 years ago from Wales

      This is truly wonderful Lisa ;you are indeed so talented. Take care and have a wonderful day my friend.

      Eddy.

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      5 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      aviannovice Thank You so much and Happy Morning to you!

    • aviannovice profile image

      Deb Hirt 

      5 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Some places have deep secrets that may not be good memories, and then we are truly grateful for what we have. Well done, with an important message.

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      8 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      You are most welcome Micky Dee anytime....PEACE

    • Micky Dee profile image

      Micky Dee 

      8 years ago

      Thank you Lisa, for the "peek inside".

    • Lisa Luv profile imageAUTHOR

      Lisa J Warner AKA Lisa Luv 

      8 years ago from Conneticut, USA

      Thank You Dear Larry! Thank you for reading and also giving as much wonderful thoughtful comments as you do. As always you are right on...

      Blessings to you and yours..

    • maven101 profile image

      maven101 

      8 years ago from Northern Arizona

      Lisa....A house is not a home...I feel suppressed pain in this prose...release that pain by forgiving with words...there is much hidden here, and the careful reader will want to give solace with a quiet nod...Thank you for sharing as much as you did with us...Peace and love, my friend...Larry

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