Written for:  The Muse #48


Photo by Skitterphoto from Pexels

They called her Lou.
She sang, performed
on stage at times. Great
-Grandma Eloise, an
unforgettable character.
Liked her liquor, jewelry,
and dance.

This is her old Victrola,
a book of poems of which
she was fond, and always
a windowsill of fresh
flowers to brighten
the room. Notice the lively
colors she surrounded herself
with.  My personal favorite–her red
velvet chairs. Lou’s rose
perfume lingers still
in that special room
of our house. Nothing
has been changed, except
for quick dustings,
and new flowers once a week.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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13 Responses to Lou

  1. Hélène - Willow Poetry says:

    Beautiful poem, very sentimental. I can feel, smell and see the room …you have described it so well through your words.


  2. Carrie V. H. says:

    A sweet memory and story in this lovely poem! I love it Sara!


  3. Vicki says:

    Love the poem of Lou, Sara. Nicely penned with colorful imagery.


  4. wyndolynne says:

    Enjoyed the way Lou was celebrated and remembered in this poem and the room. 🙂


  5. Ed Rigg says:

    The prompt stirred a delightful poem from within you, Sara . . . 🙂


  6. coalblack says:

    I think I’d have like Lou.


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