Strolling after supper
down porch lined lanes
Mrs. Malone is laughing
her apron discarded for the night
Swings creaking and
teacups in saucers
Mr. Johnson is pulling weeds
from the cracks in the walk
Children fresh from their baths
put fireflies in pickle jars
A gentleman in a wicker chair
waves a transparent hand
The scent of Gardenia
welcomes us home


  1. Beautiful house and original writing!

  2. You put me "there." This is a gem. I have a serious case of nostalgia now for these sights and sounds. Great poem!

  3. I have run out of compliment words for your exquisitely beautiful poetry, Tina. The subtle craft, the pacing, the trace of emotion that is captured and communicated but without being described, just through gestures and scents. It is magic. You are a fantastical poet and the things you create have real value in that they preserve an ideal, a way of seeing the world, honest, courageous and filled with compassion. I love your poetry.