Panagiota Romios Poet Couplet

Pangie's Childhhod

Recalling being age seven, at breakfast around 
the white, oval wood kitchen table.
Sitting on a telephone book so as to reach the 
table, I was not able.

Mom, of blessed memory and always a fresh
tablecloth, newly pressed.
Nobody in leisure clothes allowed, so  we all
were fully dressed.

Only the small radio played soft melodious 
tunes, 
Music that today, nobody could even croon.

My frisky wire-haired fox terrier played with 
his toys.
Breakfasts, decades ago that I
both cherish and enjoyed.

Faces of sun and peace, in my memory live.
The early days of this poetess, her happy,
precious retrospective.



            September 18, 2020
                    2:30pm PST

            Edited. 9/19/2020

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Tom Cunningham September 19, 2020 at 12:02 AM Beautiful childhood memories you have Panagiota, such a shame we have to get old. Those happy times when peace was the norm. Tom Panagiota Romios September 19, 2020 at 11:15 AM Yes, we get old. But looking forward to the next life~ will far outdo this one. Just imagine..no politics. One Eternal King forever...in heaven. Satan will rule hell. Don't want to end up there. Pangiexx