The Yellow House on the Hill
Apr, 12 2011 | poeTREE and pROSE | admin | 5 comments
by Nathalie Vachon
The yellow house on the hill had a wrap-around porch had a screen door with a spring on it that snapped back pushing you into the house before you knew what hit you
There were art projects on the walls Rae Ellen’s tunnel; a lump of clay painted black the dark space of the inside of the tunnel there were toys scattered on old Moroccan carpets a chalkboard beneath the stairs Van Morrison on the CD player windows open breezes always flowing
There were piles of dishes in the sink left over from last night but not to worry, there were better things to do
Lena and Rosie, i can picture them still, in the kitchen with Beauty and the Beast nightgowns and hairy beast slippers Rosie always wearing wings, powdered biscuit wings, as they held hands and danced in circles singing “Beauty and the Beast…”
Rae Ellen is chasing spirals on a piece of paper following stargazing whipper-wills and magic spells
The backyard grass is damp, moist, lush as if a bewildered garden hose had already made its rounds
Today, I don’t remember grey days, just sun crumbs on the counter tomatoes in a bowl on the table the experiment Terry Jo did with her garden as she showed me her tomatoes with brown spots saying “this is the don’t-water-your-garden-and-see-what-happens experiment”
There was art on the fridge, the clock with all the numbers on one half of its face crayons on the floor, easels in the sun room
There was the day Rae Ellen and her girlfriend were so quiet in her room until it was discovered the bean-bag chair had been split open just so they could fill the room with snow a fanciful whirligig of white Styrofoam balls snowing in her room
There was the Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham multicoloured tights and fairy princess dresses Cherios all over the Volvo, just to add cheer and petaled teacups so we could pour tea and talk and talk and hope and dream and laugh
This was the yellow house on the hill with the Bichell family and me, the adopted sister/auntie/nanny/friend this was the house where wings grew where love was an unending round-about where family was something you could count on
and where you were always sure to find a fairy-dusted embrace
5 comments
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Terry Jo Bichell
That was so beautiful. It reminded me of what is really important in life and that you are someone who can always see that.
Miss you so much, Nathalie.
Love,
TJ
Rosie Bichell
Wow! This poem just sent me back in time to when I was 4 years old. It’s great!
Love,
Rosie
admin
thank you so much Rosie and Terry Jo… miss you but your words and memories keep you close xo n
Hildie Sausik
Wow!!!! That was awesome. It brought me back to a quieter, more gentler life…. Oh how I wish for that. Thanks Natale
I hope you had a good show, I miss you popping into the store.
admin
Thanks Hildie. So nice to hear from you – miss popping in and seeing you! xo