DPC POETRY: Deep Feelings of Home

poem picHow can I tell you how I feel?
To wake up to the sound of noises
the familiar noise of dogs barking late in the night
of cocks crowing one after the other…
traveling out in the village early in the mornings
of mom’s early footsteps
as she makes her way to the kitchen
to hear the oil sizzling in the pan
and the fresh smell of her cooking
spreading like a ghost trail
all throughout the house…

The early morning traffic goes by
the voices of people in friendly greetings
laughter ringing and I feel joyful to be home.
I’m still in my bed at 6ish
and all this is going on…
I lie down and listen for more
the noise of my nephew’s alarm
him fast asleep, snoring on…
Mom quickly runs to his room and turns it off
but at her age, she can barely see
she presses the pause button
and it will soon go off again…

The pots and pans of the neighbour banging
as she too prepares breakfast and lunch for the day
sweet smell of fish stew
awakes my hunger in the wee hours of the morn;
yet I lay in bed
I need time to believe I am back home…

Across from me my baby sleeps
peacefully he snores away
one gentle kiss, a smile on my face
I ease myself from the bed
and close the mosquito nets securely…

I make my way to the kitchen
where the smell of freshly brewed coffee
draws me in;
my mom busy in her tasks
her silver hair uncombed and wild
her face heavy with a frown
her thoughts I know are far gone…

My morning greeting lights up her face
“Good morning my girl,
here, I made you coffee,” she says.
My cup in my hand
I sip the fresh coffee
and lean out of the back door
letting my eyes travel to the mountain ahead.
The memories flow to my childhood days
a cool wind blowing from the light rains
but this morn I only had the rainbow in sight.
Another sip of Mom’s freshly brewed coffee
and I listen as she tells her stories of new and old;
I’m just happy to be home.

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11 Comments

  1. Nel
    May 4, 2013

    lovely lovely lovely!

  2. Anonymous
    May 3, 2013

    You go girl. Tell it like it is.

  3. arnold toulon
    May 3, 2013

    Great sentiments,lovely rhythm.

  4. River Street
    May 3, 2013

    Very beautiful piece Jenny;this captures the reader taking him to the scene. By far one of your best.

  5. Rhona
    May 3, 2013

    Really really nice Lady Jenny. I felt myself beng home from your words…beautifully written. Loved it

  6. D/can
    May 3, 2013

    I love this poem, near cried while reading this. I was home in March and this brought back so much memories. Really miss my dominica

  7. Aletha.
    May 3, 2013

    real nice poem, trust me mothers does really have a frown on their faces in the morning, because you have so many things to do in so little time and most timeswith no or little help.Real talk , that is and true talk that is too .i can identify with almost everything said in this lovely piece of writing.this piece of writing is almost universal–to most mothers around the world can identify with that atmosphere. they may not hear cocks crowing, but the rest is just so unique.

  8. Lovely
    May 3, 2013

    Not gonna lie- I got a little teary eyed reminiscing about my first day back home.Waking up to the cocks crowing, feeling that cool breeze on my face, smelling the fresh air, and watching the villagers make their way to work. Can’t wait to experience that again- oh yes, and mami banging dem pots and pans, that was my alarm!

  9. Vincia
    May 3, 2013

    this reminds me of when i was home. Great poem

  10. Dominican
    May 3, 2013

    So inspriring.. I can surely relate to the experience!!!!

  11. Anonymous
    May 3, 2013

    Wow, that’s a great poem.

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