Poems by Samuel Aragone

Can there be anything sadder
Than a home that's had its day
Where the children have moved on
And the owners passed away

But the sadness becomes unbearable
When that home had been your own
And it reminds you so clearly
Of the happier moments you've known

Worn knitting needles shine in the sunroom
Protruding from a bag of wool on the floor
But mum's favorite chair is empty
And her needles clack no more

The crystal cabinet in the lounge room has a mirror
Reflecting an old man with the saddest of eyes
The same eyes beam from a picture of young bloke
Ecstatic as he claims some obscure scholastic prize

His brother and his sister are beside him
Sitting on that mantle piece so proud
While an eerie silence engulfs you now
This home had often been so loud

In the bedroom a green chest sits in the corner
A lonely companion that had crossed the sea
All the memories of the old world hastily packed there
Once so precious to my mum and me

In the backyard the shed had been fundamental
To the lives of the people living here
Bar-b-cuing, conserving, eating
Routine determined by the passing of the year

I wonder what my dad would have thought
When I gave his precious tools away
Polishing, honing, oiling he wanted them maintained
I gave most to his neighbor and threw out what remained

A broken bike hides in the corner
Somehow it too had found a home here
Evoking my small son wobbling down the street
His face a contortion of excitement and fear

So many precious items
That have so little value now
Indispensable to the family then
But they must all disposed of somehow

As the shadows start to lengthen
The house seems to come slowly alive
My mother yelling from the kitchen
'Dinner's ready everyone come inside'

An old fashioned yellow light illuminates my father
As he sits at the table so serene
A glass of red wine clutched in his hand
His wife and children filling out the scene

But the fading light is tricky
Your mind sees what it wants to see
As I move towards the house
Only silence comes to greet me

And I know where my mum and dad live now
The priest blessed their souls when we moved them there
So all these memories would be moved to the tip
Why should I even care

But as I shut the gate behind me
There's a heaviness of heart as tears spring to my eyes
Saying goodbye to everything you held so dear
Surely sadness should come as no surprise

And I leave the old house as my mum left it
On her last awful final afternoon
The darkness in my house and heart
I entrust to the fullest of full moons.

I wake up in the twilight of my room
The house is silent my wife slipped away in the misty rain
In years gone by the house would be frantic now
But this year Christmas lunch is at my daughters again

Fond years ago by now my mother would be calling
My father would be standing watching pensively
On the fireplace a pan of cooking oil boiling
A batch of potato and flour dough patties browning

Inside pork belly roasted in the oven
While on the stove a pot promises perfectly cooked spaghetti
Dotted though it all steaming trays of hot Italian bread
Oh the pleasure and nothing else need be said
As we feasted in the heat of another seventies Christmas

And there was no cooling air conditioning then
The southerly buster was your only friend
And yet if I could I would
Go back there again
Back to another scorching  Aussie Christmas

Now I sip my coffee remembering those gone before us
All the people whom you loved and shared your Christmas with
In my mind through the years their faces come crowding
In my eyes my tears are uncontrollably welling
While in my heart an awful pain is swelling

Parents, grandparents aunts uncles cousins too
Schoolmates work mates family and friends
If I could before my own story ends
What I wouldn't give to share another Christmas with you

And along with all the faces
I remember the places
Where I spent my Christmases
Through the years

From the freezing foothills of Southern Italy
To the steaming red cliffs of  the Murray
From the beaches of Hawks Nest or Balmoral
Memories flash past in a pleasant flurry

Then there's all the people
Who because of the families expansion or estrangement
No longer can comfortably crowd inside a house with you
No longer can we just make do as our parents did all those years ago

And from the parents house of some long forgotten love
Both in  time and distance now so far
Families I could have had or been a part of
But different cards were played and here we are

Through it all without animosity or regret
I am grateful for the people who shared their lives with me
But through my misty memories there is some inherent sadness yet
In knowing that I'll never see most of these people and places again

Now the coffee in my cup is finishing
No more time left for selfish reminiscing
I'm on my way to see my granddaughter Jasmine
The latest little person waiting to share her life with me
On her very first Christmas day

So to all the people who have shared my life some place and time
What a pleasure it was to spend some part of Christmas with you
Apart from sending my best wishes and my love
What I'd give to spend another Christmas with you
What I'd give to make memories once again with you.

Merry Christmas and thanks for the memories.

I smelt the smile of childhood
I had woken up and smiled
It was my mother's cooking
And I was just a child

But I had long been married
And this was but a dream
And I was missing mum
Or her cooking it would seem

So I woke my wife up and kissed her
And wished her happy mothers day
The mother of my children
Even more special on this special day

Then in the early morning's dark
I hurried off to mums -still sleeping still alone
For it had been many years
Since my father's soul had flown

I started cooking in her kitchen
All the ingredients were still there
And soon the familiar smell of home
Was hanging in the air

Mum woke and ambled into the room
Disoriented she thought I was her long gone man
And she gave a little sigh and whimpered
When she realized it was only her son Sam

As tears filled her eyes she whispered
I still miss him son I do
For in the early morning's light
He looked so much like you

And my mother's day always began
Much as you have there
With breakfast in the kitchen
And Dean Martin in the air

And we would dance our little dance
As we did on the day we met
Oh God my son I miss him
I miss him so much yet

So I put the record on
And Deano rose through the gloom
And I gently twirled my mother
Around that little room

And we were both crying as we danced
There was nothing I could do
And it took all the strength I had to whisper
To whisper 'mum I miss him so much too'

But she did not hear she was not there
She was hearing nothing then
For in her mind's eye and soul
She was dancing with her man again

And I could see in her eyes
The sparkle that another man had seen
When he was twenty one
And she was just sixteen

And the love that passed between them
I have seen so many times
In the generation who came before us
Who experienced the worst of times

Did surviving poverty depression war
Make them better women and men
Did they simply need each other more
Or were they better people then

Has prosperity peace and greed
Altered the balance of love somehow
Did they love each more
Then we love each other now

And sure love exists in our generation
Though it seems so much less so
Are we so very different now
Then the souls of long ago

But the music finally ended
Together with the remnants of the night
Mum's stoicism returned and she said
"go home to your wife son I will be alright'

So I quickly turned to go
There was nothing left to say
To this little woman who had borne me
"Except happy Mothers' Day
To My unforgettable indispensable ever loving mum"