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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written back in 1986, prior to our moving from our first home in Stirling (Scotland) to Manchester (England.) While excited by what lay ahead of us, leaving the house we'd called home for the first four years of married life was still tinged with a little sadness.

I guess most folk will feel the same.

(This is a bit of a rare piece, for apart from one other poem which I may post here some day, I don't tend to write anything remotely serious or melancholy these days.)

Submitted: June 11, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 11, 2017




It’s quiet for once, that room

Where the children used to play.

Not vibrant, noisy and happy –

We’re moving house today.


The old open-hearth fire

By which the cat would often lay,

Is to be replaced by central heating –

We’re moving house today.


The spare room now so peaceful

Where drunken friends would stay:

No longer filled with hungover groans –

We’re moving house today.


Kitchen windows I can now see out,

Not like on washing day.

No longer misted and clouded over –

We’re moving house today.


And that pretty garden corner,

Where flowers bathe in warm sun rays,

Will soon be tarmaced over –

We’re moving house today.


Rooms warm, inviting and cosy,

I’ll remember them that way,

Not as now – stark, cold and empty.

We’re moving house today.



© Copyright 2017 Cee Tee Jackson. All rights reserved.

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