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Array
(
[sid] => 176953
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Mystery of Great House
[time] => 2013-10-05 21:53:39
[hometext] => The gift an old mansion left me
[bodytext] => I toured the old mansion, and oh, it was grand; exploring each room with our tour guide at hand. Imagine their lifestyle! The suppers and balls; the laughter and music that echoed these walls! Shiny black carriages, gardens and stables; Men in crisp waistcoats and ladies in sables! Life came and went, (but love proved much kinder); for down the Grand Hall it left quite a reminder! The husbands, and fathers and sons told a story; the women of Great House portrayed in their glory! In hundreds of paintings that lined the Grand Hall; each like a snapshot of moments recalled. Mothers and daughters with lineage royal; in life-sized gilt frames and thick cracking oils. It must have been hours we lingered beneath; to hear why each one was so richly bequeathed; The young girls were first; sweet faces with fans; who flirted through veils; or folded gloved hands. One bared her shoulder beneath a straw hat; Another held fast to her Siamese cat! One gathered flowers in fields red as flame; (not knowing her beauty had put them to shame). Two worked their needlepoint; one sipped her tea; the last had dark eyes that kept following me! An archway of green framed a lily pond scene. His love and his oars seemed equally keen; To chauffer her parasol round the grey lake; while idly her fingertip trailed in the wake. At Christmas they gathered in red velvet gowns. Snowflakes and candlelight paid them renown; Toasting their menfolk with blackberry wine; gloved hands around each goblet entwined. A young boy and girl, posed rigid as boards--he like a willow; she like a gourd! Crushed to her crinolines, children stood straight; (she was the matriarch, make no mistake!) Some thought her delicate, lacey and frail, this creature for whom great warships would sail! The ladies of Great House bespoke generations; (some would rule hearts and some would rule nations)! At last she was painted leaving the room; at the end of the hall, (and her life, I presume). Adjusting her glasses; and turning away; she’d found it all boring in some obscure way. Thus ended my tour with my neck in a kink; but each lovely painting was worth it I think. It did leave a question stuck in my mind; embarrassed to ask it, I lingered behind. “Why were the paintings mounted so high?” The guide broke a smile; (and the house heaved a sigh). “So loved ones looked skyward” -- and some swore they found a glimpse of an angel looking back down! She palmed me an aspirin and heartily laughed; breaking the spell of Great House at last. I’m not superstitious, but home on my wall; I Scotch-taped a snapshot of me in the hall! Three months to that day, my fortunes arose; I landed a raise, and my boyfriend proposed! You’ll never convince me that this had to do; with Great House, or some silly magic they brewed. But just for good luck, our photos will be; hung in the hall by mutual decree! [comments] => 2 [counter] => 93 [topic] => 44 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )
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