Lasting love

It is hard to wear a smile on your face when you are at work

Then your mind now brightens to bring you out of the days murk

For what joy as the clocks hands get to five at night

You jump in your car and join all the workers drive back home

Now with flowers for wife from lady with her curbside stall

Knowing that you will get a kiss from your loves at the door

As the kids come rushing out looking for candy or more

You wife has your slippers ready at your own arm chair

And what a sound of relief as the kids discover you there

Both son and daughter draw closer hoping to sit on your lap

Now doubt to tell you what they've been up to today at school  

As you see the marks from the teacher they have received

Then in comes the dog with woof and wag of his tail

Jealous of course with the kids as he utters a wail

Then finally everyone starts to settle down at last

As my wife finally calls us in for our repast

For nothing is quite like the joy of family life

With the lasting love and care we have for each other

How precious these years will seem when we are older

Teaching us to make the most of each and every day

We will smile and cherish these times when we are old and grey

When you smiled

Were your eyes glancing at me?
Or did I sense your perfume
While the crowds kept on talking
As you entered through the door
My heart beat like anything
Was only us in the room
When you smiled, I loved you more

Image found at https://www.knowledgeformen.com

Does she like me?

What an enigmatic smile she had
Set me thinking "Does she like me?"
Or worse "Am I gruesome to her?"
I need not have worried about that though
Notwithstanding these thoughts she smiled
When I glanced her way and lifted my glass
To offer her a drink; She nodded
She said her name was Stephanie
And as we talked, our conversation
Unwrapped each other from our cocoons

Image found at www.progorodnn.ru

Happiness

 

                                            Ananda the Bag lady

Dot made her way to the park. It seemed to get further away from home everyday. She remembered as a child how it was always a magnet for her and her sister and they would spend hours on the swings. They used to close their eyes and dream of being grown up and how happy they would be. But that hadn’t happened. Her sister had married first and gone interstate. Then later she too had married because everyone else did and said yes to the first that asked. Now Dot was miserable. Everything had gone wrong in her life. Her husband had died a few years ago which was a relief because she didn’t really like him anyway and couldn’t think what possessed her to marry him in the first place. Their children too had grown up and got partners of their own and her dear sister she saw only rarely and even the letters they used to write regularly had dried up. Dot knew it was because she had dried up too and nobody liked her anymore she was always so miserable.

She came to the park because there were always a few fossickers in and around the litter bins. When she saw these dregs of society as she liked to call them she would feel that tiny glow of satisfaction that her life was nowhere as bad as theirs. Dot was fastidious and shuddered with disgust as she watched the bag ladies pull drink cans and bottles from the trash; turn them up-side-down to make sure they were emptied and then place them in their bags. The bag ladies faces normally wore a dead pan expression or a scowl to deter any comment or criticism of their activities. So all was well with the world for Dot as she observed those failures in life and she was able to forget her own failures that brought her there in the first place to shut out her own life.

That was until she met the Indian girl who although wearing a sari she also had a hooded cape as well. She too was a bag lady with three sacks on her shoulders with various bulges grinning through. However what caught Dot’s eye was the girls broad grin as she scanned the area ahead of her searching for the discards of the local’s greed and consumption. As the girl passed she nodded respectfully to Dot. There was no scowl or look of hatred but that perpetual smile that seemed to say. “I'll keep this park clean for you”. Quietly and with barely a nod she went on her way as Dot wondered why she was so happy.

And so it was that Dot saw the happy smiling Indian girl in park quite regularly. In the end Dot’s curiosity persuaded her to nod at the girl in acknowledgement when they saw each other until one day Dot patted the bench seat and said to the girl “Come, sit and let us share some cake I have.”

The girl looked doubtfully but sat anyway pushing her collection sacks to the side of the seat. Dot brought the cake out of her bag and offered the girl a piece. She took it politely and nibbled at it while Dot tried to make conversation. Gradually she discovered that the girl was in fact married and had two children at school. Her husband had died and she was left to bring up the children by herself. Because her command of English was not good she could only get the most basic jobs such as cleaning and these were at night when she needed to look after the children. So she spent all day when the children were at school collecting recyclable material that could be cashed in at the collection points.

Their meeting transformed Dot. She stopped being sorry for herself and always spoke to the smiling girl when she saw her in the park. She even found out the girls name which was Ananda, which meant Happiness. 

 

Photo by  C. Frank Starmer  http.www.frank.itlab.us

Your Winsome Smile

Leaving youth behind

She is on an adventure

Being a woman

William Barribal was a postcard artist in the first half of the 20^th century and specialised in pretty girls often daring for the period between the two world wars. He used his wife as his model however the range of girls illustrated would indicate that he was surrounded by pretty women although in the postcard illustration above it almost certainly is her.

His range of subjects ranged from wartime humour to provocative scenes on the beach and a fair smattering of children’s portraits, as well as Military themes right through the 2^nd World War when patriotic fervour was a favourite subject to keep morale high in war torn Britain.

I chose this postcard to illustrate this post as the girls eyes are the feature that are smiling and illustrate the beauty and promise of youth that was Barribal’s forte.

 

Illustration from author's own postcard collection