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Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

~ "The silence of the night awakens my soul"

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

Tag Archives: house

Bittersweet Memories ~ Saying Goodbye – #poetry

26 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in My Thoughts, Poetry

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

#mythoughts, #poetry, Childhood Memories, dorindaduclos.com, final goodbye, Home, house, memories, mom, Night Owl Poetry, poems, selling, writing


How bittersweet the memories stay
Wasn’t I a child just yesterday?
Laughing in the yard, where I’d play
But the grass is no longer mine

Momma made this house her own
In turn this was the place I’d grown
Now these moments are mine alone
Kept tucked inside my heart, I pine

I try to focus, but I just stare
No pictures hang, the walls are bare
Each one removed with utmost care
Those empty hooks, left behind

I close the door, in my stomach, a pit
On those front steps, never again will I sit
I never thought I’d be so hard hit
Perhaps this was all by design, that

I find myself grown up, too fast
I want to go back, relive the past
But seems my future has been cast
So in my soul, this place, I enshrine

How I looked up to you with nothing but love
Now you watch over me from Heaven above.

I miss you so very much, Mom…

 

Authors Note – Today I close on my childhood home.  It will be the last time I walk the hallways & smile at the memories, so I shall cry at the finale.

©2021 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by rafaelmm from Pixabay

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Two More – #poetry – #witch – #fantasy

05 Monday Oct 2020

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

#poetry, Children, dorindaduclos.com, fantasy, forest, house, Night Owl Poetry, poems, witch, writing


The children journeyed near the forest house
She stood there, watching and waiting
Not making a sound, as quiet as a mouse
The witch thought this ever frustrating

All she wanted was to make a stew
The ingredients, of course, did matter
Children, she thought, ah! Something new
She would whip up a nice tasty batter

Douse them with flour, throw in some eggs
Mix it all up with her broomstick
Heads and arms, tangled feet and legs
Straight into the oven, she was quick

Closed the door tightly, then shouted with glee
“Yes! Yes!! Such a fanciful notion!”
“I once heard that children are very tasty,”
Then came a sound, quite the commotion!

Looking about, she spied her creations
Escaping, they ran, hurried, for the door
Sighing, the witch, now lacking elation
“Oh well, I’ll just wait for two more.”

 

©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Willgard Krause from Pixabay

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Between the Courtyard – #writephoto – #shortstory

25 Saturday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in short story, WritePhoto

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

#poetry, #shortstory, dorindaduclos.com, garden, house, Night Owl Poetry, poems, transition, witch, WritePhoto, writing, writing prompt


I stand in the courtyard of my mother’s gardens. Always well-manicured, I was never allowed to play in them, but I spent many of my childhood days reading, and just thinking. Being surrounded by lush green grass, and the occasional flower tends to let one’s mind wander to places it should not.

My old home is in ruin now. Time has not allowed a kind transition. Vines have replaced the pristine white facade, and the old oaken door is warped shut. So many memories are held in that small house. How I wish they were all kind ones. I distinctly remember mother telling us we were not to bother old lady Werth. She was the woman who lived directly across from us, her door facing the courtyard, same as ours. It was never open, and we questioned if someone actually lived there. She must have been a hundred years old.

Curiosity got the better of me, one day I decided to knock on her door. The other kids ran to hide, afraid of who or what might answer. But no one did. I knocked again. I was a persistent pain in the butt when it came to getting answers. Sadly, after the fourth time knocking, I gave up. I remember telling my friends, “You big babies, I told you there was nothing to be afraid of! She’s probably long gone by now. She was so old!” They agreed, slowly coming out of their hiding places.

Today, I stand looking at the old house, once again. For laughs, I decide to knock on Werth’s door one more time. I make my way up the steps and upon reaching the dark wooden door, raise my hand to knock. Before I can complete this task, the doors open by themselves. I check, but there is no wind to cause this. Perhaps there is a new family living there, and they saw my approach. However, an eerie sensation comes over me, and I hesitate to go any further.

A frail voice beckons me to come in, and as I do, the dark doors behind me close, with a loud thud. I have made my own transition, no longer in the glory of my mother’s grandest accomplishment, but in the confines of an old house, now prisoner of the old witch who still lives…

Photo via Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt – Transition

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved

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Friday Fantasy ~ Anne of Gruesome Gables – #MayWriting – #poetry – #DoubleEtheree

17 Friday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Etheree, Friday Fantasy, May Writing, Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

#MayWriting, #poetry, Anne of Green Gables, child, dorindaduclos.com, evil, fantasy, Friday Fantasy, gruesome, haunted, house, Night Owl Poetry, poems, writing, writing prompt


The
Faces
Remain here
Haunting my soul
Each one different
But still the same being
This, the house where I grew up
No longer holds fond memories
Instead it bears the marks of a child
Forgotten, alone, fending off evil
An evil that still dwells inside of it
How I long to rid myself of it
Banish it to another world
Yet, I remain stuck within
A gruesome gabled home
With fiendish faces
Always ogling
Rescue me
Fondly
Anne

 

May Writing Prompts – Anne of Gruesome Gables – Day 17/31

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay

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Monochrome Life – #writephoto – #poeticprose – #poetry

07 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poetic Prose, Poetry, WritePhoto

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

#poeticprose, #poetry, death, house, monochrome, Night Owl Poetry, poems, spirit, WritePhoto, writing, writing prompt


Colors taken from my eyes, black and white before me; memories sway under clouded skies, how I long for this to restore me. Amazed by how it still stands there, tall, though bowed in the middle, such grace; I’m pretty sure eventually, I’ll fall, while this house still stands in its place. Structured to last throughout the storms, its life perseveres, timeless; my only hope is to me, it warms, so I may cling to its fortitude, with kindness.

*****

To follow the path of the once, so grand, the home where I grew, I return to; I no longer own this land, although, truly, I desperately yearn to. Instead, I walk the grounds at night, afraid of the light of day; tis why my world is in black and white, and how it will forever stay. Now only spirit, no mortal being, I wander throughout this home, knowing there is no one seeing, I am free to be me…and roam.

 

Photo via Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt – Monochrome

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved

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