Scraps of Us…

A while back I posted a poem called, “Scraps of Me” that was crafted from a template that I found at Colleen’s Loose Leaf Notes blog. Today, I would like to give the updated version of that poem. I wrote this shortly after “Scraps of Me”, but wanted to keep it to myself for a while. Now I present it to you in the hope it is as well received.


Who We Are Now

We’re, black coffee
and crumbly croissants,
peppered goat cheese
and lengths of linguine.
We’re, hygge ‘by the Jotul stove,
curled cats, thrown throws
and plush pillows.

We’re, the rowan tree
drooping with fruits of orange,
the pink-petalled redbud, bee-sieged,
lamb’s ears and leopard’s bane.
We’re, the reclaimed pedestal sink
and the old sadler teapot
filled with the elements of the earth.

We’re, early-to-bed and
early-to-rise–even on weekends,
snuggling under the duvet,
lying in ‘til the feline assault.
We’re, pancakes, laptops and the Post
taking up the whole table–
and EPL on the telly.

We’re, “Command Central”,
“You want a cuppa?”
and “Did you feed the beasts?”
followed by the famous “Wet-Food Song”.
We’re, movie marathons
on rainy days and snowy nights,
and even sunny Sunday afternoons.

We’re, heritage flags,
The Mourne Mountains, Tivoli,
Christmas and St. Paddy’s Day–
flowing in our blood.
We’re, dream-builders
of that house in the country
and walking with wolfhounds.

We’re, bedtime ablutions,
night prayers and extra kisses
and ever-elusive rest
(unhampered by hairballs).
We’re, herbals and organics,
recycling and reusing–
trying to make a difference.

We’re, thrift-store hunters–
scavenging, bartering,
and finding hidden gems
on dusty shelves.
We’re, cuisine and comfort food
thinking, talking, tasting–
every waking minute.

We’re, Faith of our Fathers,
knowing our place
in this life and the next,
staying on track.
We’re, being born to it
and converting–
Conscious of the card-holder.

We’re not, photographs
or albums or portraits,
but paintings and patterns
and wealths of words.
We’re, music and memories
held in our heads and hearts
‘Til God sees fit, to blot them out.

Kathleen Mortensen©2008


12 thoughts on “Scraps of Us…

  1. Thanks Willow – I need to get over to your blog soon. I've seen so many things on it that I want to read and comment on. I've just been preoccupied. Thank goodness all blog posts stay put so you can delve into them at your leisure.Thanks, Colleen. You are a real inspiration to me. I look forward to reading your update.Thanks, natural, we would probably have a real connection in person.Kat


  2. Kat, loved the vid of Nora, and most especially your poem. The lists of images has a wonderful almost tumbling pace to it, comletely delightful!


  3. your scraps is fun reading aND PROFOUND – YOUR MENU ABOVE DELIGHTFUL. qUITE A COUP FOR YOUR PARENTS . tAKE LOTS OF PICS IN kITCHENER.sorry caps are out of contol and revolting from the mother board..


  4. What a beautiful poem! I love the way you tied “faith of our fathers” into your everyday being-ness. :)It's the first time I've visited. I am just trying poetry for the first time in hesitant and halting steps, but it is oh so satisfying!Do you have a listing of where your published poems might be found? Anywhere on the web?God bless.


  5. Gosh, you are a truly talented poet. I'm awed…This poem captures so much….wrapped in the most beautiful words…I feel I know you (and like you!) a lot more for having read it. You have a blessed life indeed….


  6. What a celebration of mortality! I never thought it could be possible to acknowledge our limited time on the earth and rejoice, but you've managed it with an accuracy that defies definition. It just works, that's all!


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