Worn steps: The entrance to new house

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Gazing her ‘home’ being fell, getting renovated new,
Its narrow creaking door sprayed with bright blue,
Rose a very deep sore ache in her slow-paced heart,
Her weak memory flounders towards the very start,
Those steps, where she sat making little Finn’s hair,
Sat cheering loud, little Lin playing tag, at the stairs,
Today she stands weary, dead, unable to move, think,
Her poor self worn as the steps, she looks, sans blink.

Her worn house furnished new, only to house her,
She muses deep to herself, in fashion that’s unclear,
When young, parents help child ascend steps, anew,
Why can’t child help them descend worn steps, in old hues?
Coming into senses, she sees the mason with trowel,
She refuses to let the mason fill the worn steps, well,
And now when people pass by her so called house,
Worn stairs are chuckled at, not matching the new house.


This post was written in response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Worn #writephoto, hosted by Sue. The challenge was to use the image as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark.

Thank you!

37 thoughts on “Worn steps: The entrance to new house

Add yours

  1. Aashi, This is a lovely poem filled with wistful memories. It reminds me of when we were painting our living room. In the corner where my daughter used to stand as punishment, were little tear stains on the walls. When I saw that, I cried too! Now 51, she is a model citizen, compassionate, intelligent, kind, and hard-working. I am very proud of her.

    Thank you, Aashi, for sharing this lovely post. Have a good weekend! Cheryl

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You have explored so many thoughts here. It’s sad indeed that many children don’t return the same love and affection to their parents in their old age. Sometimes, there are too many memories associated with a certain part of our homes that we don’t feel like changing them. A great take on the prompt, Aashi. Very thought provoking

    Liked by 1 person

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