Nostalgic Mood

A poem in rhyming quatrains

 

Nostalgic Mood

 

No moon tonight, no stars in view.

The darkness rules triumphantly

 There’s nothing left for us to do

but ignite the gas, create light.

 

The striking match, the hiss of gas

The mantle starts to glow blue white.

 We let the after image pass

and we regain the power of sight.

 

The mantel mirror throws the light

 that’s caught and held by polished brass

 and china plates of blue and white

 and by the china cabinets glass.

 

 Familiar things come into view.

Although we see them every day.

 By the soft glow we see anew

as though they’ve changed some subtle way.

 

The curtains which hold back the night

adopt somehow a richer hue.

 Though worn and faded by sunlight.

By soft gaslight look almost new.

 

Progress insisted that we change

and they installed electricity.

The old familiar things look strange

The light falls simultaneously.

 

There’s no reflections to and fro

 in the way there used to be.

I much preferred the softer glow

 that I recall from memory.

 

I can’t go back although I would

given the opportunity.

Perhaps I’m in nostalgic mood

forgetting things conveniently.

 

The ever present smell of gas

and fumes that coated everything.

 Obscured the twinkle of the brass.

 which needed daily polishing.

 

 I must admit reluctantly

though I adored the softer glow.

I’m used to electricity

outmoded fashions have to go.

 

14-Nov-08

 

http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.

Reviews

[J.K. (Not Rowling)]

While reading this, I only wished I had a cup of hot cocoa to enjoy along with all the strong images you presented. There certainly is something special about "the old ways" of lighting up a space, whether a blue white gas lamp, a flickering candle, or crackling fireplace, they all hold their magic. Thanks for reminding us of that (even though we all tend to like the convenient modern ways for everyday use).