
outside my window some leaves still shine deep green while others
yellow to crisp edges
like differing rooms living through seasons of this house
holding a room of restful freshness
and outdated rooms yet to be revisited with today's view
a room of gatherings present and past
decades of dents and scratches, musicians and boardgames
voices absorbed by the grain of the enduring oak table
stairs where I have fallen with my hands full
and stairs where we held hands to steady the climb upward
there is a room where floating memories lighten as dust sparkles
another where music lives among the dancing shadows
today wet paint will secret away stories of the many inhabitants
while I alone remember the layers underneath
a treasured gratitude for a life within safe walls
when the golden leaves fall this September
who might enter through my blue sky doorway?
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE. This prompt was inspired by Albert Garcia’s poem “August Morning,”
This is not my house, but a blue door I photographed in France in 2019.
My house does have a blue door.
I love the wonderful memories your room bring to us. Old houses are filled with stories left untold.
I remember, as a child, my parents wallpapering some of the rooms in our house. They would simply add another layer over the one that was there. Just like stories in a book!
Thanks for the memories!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks for sharing your memory. That’s a fun one.
LikeLike
I often wonder what might be left behind in empty rooms and behind blue doors, Ali! Your beautiful poem provides some intriguing answers…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure!
LikeLike
Beautiful🌺
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reading.
LikeLiked by 1 person
differing rooms living through seasons of this house
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reflecting back.
LikeLike
I love a house with memories, and even more so when it has those layers that only you can know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is a lucky experience to live so long in one house.
LikeLike
Thank you for the note ** I was ready to move in with you! What a gorgeous image. Now for the serious stuff: I love the way you journeyed through your home, the sweet, the deep, the personal memorization … cheers, Ali.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m so grateful I have a home I can share with others.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that you began your poem, Ali, outside the window, with hints of autumn that link to the ‘rooms living through seasons’, and the ‘gatherings present and past / decades of dents and scratches, musicians and boardgames, so cosy and welcoming, and the ending. I especially love these lines:
‘there is a room where floating memories lighten as dust sparklesanother where music lives among the dancing shadows’.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kim,
Thank you for taking the time to leave such a thoughtful response. I really enjoy reading your poetry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome, Ali. And thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully written Ali this section particularly grabbed me:
’today wet paint will secret away stories of the many inhabitants
while I alone remember the layers underneath’ 🩷
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for this thoughtful reflection.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are very welcome ❤️
LikeLike
I enjoyed reading this quiet piece and the understated metaphor running through it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Stefan, thank you for letting me know that this poem reached you.
Have a great day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A wonderful poem, Ali.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Rupali. Have a great day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A home with history. This line stood out for me: a treasured gratitude for a life within safe walls.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I truly feel lucky to have had a safe home for so many years while many have had to flee theirs because of wildfires, storms or wars.
LikeLike
how wonderful, so many stories there
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many stories and so many more to be written
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh wonderful, and I imagine if the walls could talk, what lovely story’s they could tell, Ali
LikeLiked by 1 person
I kind of wish they could give me a replay of the last 27 years. That would be so fun.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that’s mind boggling, Ali
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the collections of stories, emotions and memories and then the mystery of who will enter next to add to those memories. A lovely poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Houses hold so many memories.
I am grateful to have had this home for so long. Many have not been so lucky.
Thanks for dropping by.
LikeLike
I really love what you did here, the poem comes to life in these lines to me:
“there is a room where floating memories lighten as dust sparkles
another where music lives among the dancing shadows
today wet paint will secret away stories of the many inhabitants
while I alone remember the layers underneath”
It’s a superb poem and a grand display of vivid descriptions and colorful phrases.
LikeLiked by 1 person
trE,
I truly appreciate your reflective response. It continues to be fascinating to me what lines speak to another reader.
There was so much that I could say in this poem. I had a hard time choosing what to keep or leave out.
Hope you are well.
Ali
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, I love this. A beautiful walkthrough. Just don’t fall down any more stairs! I especially love this stanza:
“a room of gatherings present and past
decades of dents and scratches, musicians and boardgames
voices absorbed by the grain of the enduring oak table”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Melissa,
Thank you for reflecting on what spoke to you the most. I appreciate that.
I hope to get a writing date out soon.
Be well,
Ali
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this, Ali. Full of so much! 😍
🙏🏻💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you friend. I had so much fun writing it, the most fun I’ve had writing in a long time. Wishing you wellness.
LikeLiked by 1 person