The Get-away Girl

In our home with three sisters privacy was unknown.

Sometimes I craved solitude and quiet to read a book!

I had bolt holes.

 

There was always crawling under a bed quilt.

But that was glaringly obvious, stuffy and dim.

And the blanket pulled on my hair.

 

A roomy closet with a flash light wasn't bad.

But awkward balancing the book and the torch

And turning pages with the clothes so close.

 

The roof of the garage was ideal, legs over the peak,

Back against the birdhouse, a cushion for my butt,

A bottle of water and surround sunlight. Bliss.

 

At Grandma's house, it was a small, wooden arm chair

On thick grass beneath the huge tree, under a sheet.

Summer holidays' heaven for hours.

 

Until one day Mummy interrupted me on purpose.

I threw back the sheet with a scowl, even for Mum,

And she had a camera which she clicked, instantly.

 

Oh, the face! The honesty of it. Such a glare captured

For eternity. My mother laughed fit to kill herself.

It is one of the favourite photos of my whole life.

 

 

 

 

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Comments

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Hannah Collins

Wed 29th Apr 2020 20:36

Grandma's house sounds delightful.
Lovely poem.

Hannah

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jennifer Malden

Wed 29th Apr 2020 17:45

Liked this one, and so many can relate to it too. We used to make 'housies' in the wood, with bent over branches, and leaves, and I spent hours in a tiny cupboard on a corner of the stairs, reading old comic annuals. You should put the photo on if you still have it.
Jennifer

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Tom

Tue 28th Apr 2020 15:46

I really enjoyed this Cynthia and can relate. I was always looking to escape from my two younger sisters so I could build my lego spaceships in peace 😃 Do you have the photo and can you attach it to the poem?

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Michael Triandafils

Tue 28th Apr 2020 15:16

It got me wanting to see the picture...but it would probably not add up to my imagination. Also, having a 12-year-old daughter, who has just fallen in love with privacy, I was able to connect on a personal level. Thank-you...

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Greg Freeman

Tue 28th Apr 2020 12:58

It is a kind of lockdown poem, isn't it, Cynthia? Full of detail, that's kind of poem I love.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 28th Apr 2020 11:58

I'd never share these 'flashbacks' if I thought they were 'just me'. I honestly feel we all have such silly, wonderful moments in our lives.
And sharing might raise a sympathetic smile. A 'people closeness'.

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