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Poetry




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The Photograph
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TITLE (EDIT)
The Photograph
DESCRIPTION
Narrative verse.
[987 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Mystical
AUTHOR
Dusty A Tincher
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A poet living in North Carolina, I have produced a prodigious amount of work since the September 11 attacks on our nation! I most enjoy using poetry to tell stories; some true experiences, some fictional, some dreams, etc. Still searching for an agent/editor/publisher who does not run screaming from the room at the mention of the word "poetry" (sigh)..... reviews, opinions and comments welcome.... feel free to email! Thanks for reading!
[December 2001]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1)
The Deal (Poetry) A piece of narrative verse that tells a story! Other titles at Storymania include The Photograph. [1,072 words] [Motivational]
The Photograph
Dusty A Tincher

  THE PHOTOGRAPH

 Lucy sat alone, dejected
 With her chin upon her hnd
 Worry weighed her down so much
 She doubted she could san...
 Through the open kitchen window
 She saw her children in the yard
 Their very future was at stake...
 She wondered......why is life so hard?
 Ten years ago, she'd left this farm
 Eighteen, with a burning need
 She'd only recently returned
 Widowed with three kids to feed
 Her dad had died while she was gone
 So her Mom was glad to see
 Her daughter home with grandkids
 For her to bounce upon her knee
 But then a little over a month ago
 Came Mama's turn to pass away
 The cemetery and the funerl
 Still remained a blur today
 Then just this morning the sheriff came
 With a notice from the city
 Her parents' taxes were in arrears
 The lawman looked at her with pity
 "What does this mean?" she had to ask
 Feeling scared and all alone
 "Well, Ma'am....unless you pay this here
 They're gonna come and take your home"
 Lucy looked at where he pointed
 And felt the room begin to whirl
 "$7,000.00??There's no way in all the world!"
 The sheriff scratched his head and sighed
 "Is there something you could sell?"
 "Not for that much," Lucy maoned
 "This place has gone straight to hell!
 She wandered through the parlor
 Stopped at the faded photograph
 Of her parents on the mantel
 Daddy seemed about to laugh
 Taken on a day now lost in time
 Done in golden sepia tones
 It pictured them on their wedding day
 Near the front steps of this home
 Lucy stared into their eyes
 Feeling worse than ever before
 Unsure what the futute held
 But knowing hardships were in store
 She cooked supper for the children
 Then tucked them all in bed
 Prayers over, hugs and kisses
 Then three bedtime stories read
 She settled down in her father's den
 Searched through every paper there
 He'd obviously had no savings
 Though she knew how much he'd cared
 While sitting at the ancient desk
 She felt a sudden chill
 It left her feeling frightened
 She held very, very still
 Then in the corner by the door
 She saw something that seemed strange
 Was it her imagination
 Or had the light begun to change?
 She walked slowly toward the doorway
 Where the light was taking form
 She noticed the chill had disappeared
 Just as suddenly, she was warm!
 Golden light now showed an image
 A tall woman with slender grace
 Feeling no fear, Lucy squinted
 But could not make out a face
 Then the woman beckoned to her
 As if to say, "Come walk with me"
 She floated down the hallway
 With Lucy following hesitantly
 She waited by the parlor door
 Near the bottom of the stair
 The lady drifted to the mantel
 Then stopped and hovered there
 Again she gestured, "Over here"
  Pointing to the photograph
 That Lucy'd seen that afternoon
 And now, underneath the glass
 A single speck of shining white
 Glowed in her mother's hands
 Very tightly she gripped the frame
 As she struggled to understand
 Then all at once, the lady vanished
 And though Lucy looked around
 The woman left not a single trace
 Just gone----without a sound
 Glancing back at the photograph
 She studied it once more
 Noticed now what her mother held
 She hadn't seen it there before
 It looked to be a wooden box
 With brass hinges and a clasp
 Something about it seemed familiar
 But the memory slipped her grasp
 More confused than ever,
 She made tea; started up to bed
 When all at once, the elusive memory
 Popped unbidden into her head
 She'd been a very tiny girl
 No more than 6 or maybe 7
 When she'd watched her Mom take from a shelf
 A box she had labeled 'Heaven'
 "What's in there, Mama?" Lucy'd asked
 Her mother smiled, but wouldn't say
 Just tucked an envelope deep inside
 Then put the box away.
 Later on she'd told the girl,
 "Your grandpa made that box of wood
 Its only for special treasures
 Like secrets and other goods!"
 Lucy flew back down the stairs
 Remembering just where she'd seen
 Her Mama hide the wooden box
 Containing all her hopes and dreams
 With trembling fingers she held it now
 Lifting the antique lid to see
 On top of a stack of papers----an envelope
 That just said "Policy"
 She took the pages out to read
 Spreading each of them apart
 Too afraid to even acknowledge
 The hope that sprang up in her heart
 In the event of both her parents' death
 No matter how or what age they were
 They'd left this farmhouse and insurance
 And all they owned to her
 It was enough to pay the tax arrears
 And for three college educations!
 Lucy wept tears of gratitude
 For her parnets' dedication
 Then she fell down on her knees
 To thank the Lord in prayer
 If not for the heavenly angel in white
 She'd have never known it was there!
 She picked up the photograph once again
 Doing a double-take in suprise
 The shock and amazement on her face
 Could never have been disguised!
 For her mother's hands were folded
 They didn't hold a single thing!
 Fingers intertwined together
 Showing only a wedding ring!!
 She felt the room begin to sway
 But Mama's voice was crystal clear:
 "Just be grateful and never breathe a word
 Of what has happened here---"
 Lucy lived to be a ripe old age
 And then, late one winter night
 She lay in bed and once more saw
 The lady of golden light...
 "Lucy dear, it's time to go"
 She extended a glowing hand
 The old woman paused, looking toward the closet
 The angel seemed to understand...
 "Leave the box," she gently smiled
 "Your daughter will have her turn...
 When the time is right, for some earthly bridges
 Were never meant to burn."
 
 Dusty Tincher c 2001
 
 

 

READER'S REVIEWS (4)
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"you should b t8ken apart by 47.5 monkeys on a tuesday u idiot scum! pssssssst.. there is also a q" -- Jey, i live in zimbabwe u fool, dont ask its priveleged inf., y do u want 2 no?.
"as i vaas svaying i am a german so i say v alot. up ur u vrikin vool. c? anyway here is the q i promised. Q. there happy now. i vant 2 eat some pikles good by 4 now u pikle eating person. Ni! PS you need 2 add negative numbers 2 da ratink chart i put it as low as vit can go!" -- Jey, i live in zimbabwe, dont ask that is privilaged info., u do u vant 2 no?.
"u still havnt put a vrikin negative number on the vrikin vrating chvart! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerg! &#[email protected]*&! i will be hating you 4 da vrest of vour live. grrrrrrrrr vear me u mortal. Mwahahahaahahahahahahaha! by da vay i still give it a vone (1)" -- Jey, i live still in zimbabwe just in case u were wondering, /, \.
"excuse me stupid svon's put downs, he is an idiot." -- Jey's dad, vy do u vant 2 no?, shut up u stupid dog on elm st., sfjkh.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2001 Dusty A Tincher
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
December 2001
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1557
 

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