it was a sweet opportunity to be able to buy my Dublin childhood suburban home. this poem attempts to capture the unique ambiance of those suburban streets
spot-lit on the ‘stage’ of electric floats,
early morning milkmen in white coats,
systematically shifted grey plastic crates,
milk bottle chimed in suburban estate
accompanied by loudly whistled tunes:
milk for tea and breakfast cereal spoons.
the streetlight’s vigilant gaze will cease,
distant traffic will dominate dawn’s peace,
the sun will claps his hands brightly,
alarm clocks will shrill politely,
lazy-loop phone wires will happily hum:
family news, local gossip will thrum.
the postman’s bike at front-garden gates
that canvas bag bulges with hope and fate.
a neighbour’s basset hound boomily barks
waking the upper half of Ardagh Park,
– what will those envelopes contain?
some brought pleasure, others pain.
letterbox snapped, littered the lino floor
my slippered steps hastened to front door
– what packets and letters would await?
letters brought news, magazines “au fait”,
friends wrote well thought out replies:
planting hope in heart, smiles in my eyes.
how can instant emails ever displace
the written or typed reflective pace?
– some missives came sweetly scented
(text-speak and emoticons not yet invented)
envelopes torn open, contents slow read
tea sipped, marmalade on toasted bread…