Sitting Room Poems | Examples

What the Morning Leaves Behind

I woke this morning
to the thick breath of heat,
a humid Sunday rising slow as regret.

The tulip tree leaves hung there,
backlit like stained glass in a forgotten chapel,
and beneath the sagging feeder,
a ragged pile of feathers—gray, white, brown—
strewn across the grass,
as though something holy had been torn apart
in the night.

Fox, coyote, hawk—
it hardly matters.
Something lived, and something else lived longer.

I stood there,
thinking how easy it is to mistake hunger for cruelty,
but the air was already moving on,
taking the story with it.

From the television in the sitting room,
the voice of a tired reporter cracks
over the flash flooding on the Guadalupe,
bodies pulled from the brown water,
while the ban on transgenders from the military takes hold,
quiet as a closing door.
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Note: Another poem reflecting James Wright's style

See You Sometime

Your bedroom with a garden view
Includes a view to the field
Here we are, looking through
Leaning on the window sill
It’s calm, the early dusk hour
My favorite time has come
I sense the smell of every flower
I breathe the tune you hum
Down in the sitting room 
Comes Pippa to lick your face
She’s jealous, you say, and the fume
Of your blackberry vape fills the space
Then our images blur, the sound worsens, 
Interrupts, and the call fails 
We're too good for the real persons 
Just two characters of a tale
It’s over now, all of a sudden
I can’t bother less, you’d say
I’m promised another garden
See you sometime, one day

I Almost Tossed It Out

I stood at the edge of the universe,
cradling a heart wrapped in twinkling lights,
an ornament for a tree
that never adorned my sitting room.
“What a quirky thing, this love,” I thought,
as you strode in, a meteor in a suit,
sprinkling stardust on my insecurities.

“You’re a masterpiece, even in progress,”
you said, while I toyed with tossing it all out -
how to love someone
who stumbles over his heart
while tying his shoelaces.

But your smile halts the universe,
a speed bump on this cosmic highway,
drawing me back,
sipping the absurdity
of loving you while juggling shadows.

So, I didn’t discard it.
I placed it beneath my pillow,
a tangled reminder that even as doubt enfolds,
this messy web of love is worth unraveling,
that perhaps in loving you, the gap
between who I am and who I’m becoming
might close.

The Tale of The House in Sounds

The  CRUNCHING  of tyres on the gravelly driveway
The CLANG of the garden gate sharply closing
The CLICK of the key in the lock
The old door CREAKING open on its hinges
The SNAP of the light switch to brighten  the house
The SWISH  of the curtains being drawn
The CLATTER of crockery being laid on the table
The GUSH of water from the tap into the kettle
The WHISPER ,HISS and SPLUTTER of the boiling kettle
The annoying SLURP of a GULP of tea
The CHORTLE of laughter around the table
The SCRAPING of chairs being drawn back
The CRACKLE of the open fire in the sitting room
The SCRATCH of a match to light the pipe
The comfort of being indoors at the first CLAP of thunder
The even more comforting CLINK of glasses for a safe homecoming

Pain hits hard

My partner and I were never prepared,
for what the specialist doctor said, 
We hoped the chemo worked but dread,
to tell you that the cancer spread, 
Our palative nurse tried to dull the pain, 
But time after time it was bad news again, 
I just had enough of the pain being raw, 
My impulse was to punch the sitting room door, 
I needed some space to digest the bad news, 
My love of my life I was soon to lose,
How do you deal with such a dialema, 
Love will grow strong even when not together.

Secret Wedding

They carried on in secret
pretending not to care
then organised the wedding
not one of the family were there
mum cried in the kitchen
the news was much to bear
dad had lost his temper
his choice words hung in the air
the household was in crisis
with lots of opinions to share
the summit in the sitting room
agreed it wasn't fair
"nothing good will come of this"
said grand-dad from his chair,
while grandma simply said it was,
"a hole in the wall affair".

No Nonsense

I read The Raven in its entirety,
I must admit it's kind of creepy.

If some big ol' bird with devil eyes
Came tap tap tapping to my sitting room,
I'd be leave leave leaving for the refuge 
Of my mother's house.

Mother's house is a house of safety,
And if that bird dared to follow 
It would bow and say "Milady,"
And nevermore forget it's place~
'Cause Mom don't brook no nonsense
From neither man nor beast!

Summer Flowers

Flower gardens in my neighborhood in full bloom
Lovely flowers freshened by the summer rain
Daisies, asters, hot poker with their scarlet plume
Flower gardens in my neighborhood in full bloom
All equally lovely in a vase in my sitting room
It is wonderful to have cut flowers once again
Flower gardens in my neighborhood in full bloom
Lovely flowers freshened by the summer rain. 

Written June 10, 2022

The Dandelion

How large the dandelion bloom
in her neglected garden.

Her wizened face begs pardon
for the dust-encrusted sitting room.

Still, so much better than her tomb
to visit long after life has hardened.


Image: Pixabay

Cat On the Zoom

All the way from my sitting room
I can hear my calico talking on Zoom,
Seems she’s looking for someone to exhume
Remains of a ratty old, worn-out broom.
I buried it because it smelled like a tomb,
Not realizing it was to her “eau de parfum.”
In her present state of utter, abject gloom,
She is now threatening me, I presume,
For I distinctly hear her saying, “Kaboom!”
A mushroom cloud could suddenly loom
It saddens me deeply this could mean doom,
If I don’t do something she’ll continue to fume.

If you have a cat, one with a nom de plume
Be careful to eavesdrop from your sitting room
And if you hear the dreaded word “Kaboom,”
Hurry, right then; go and shut off the Zoom!

FIRST PLACE WINNER
written December 3, 2021
especially for "'Z' - New or Old" poetry contest
sponsored by Constance La France

The Sitting Room

A quiet spot in the house,
 not frequented by visitors, 
  set aside, distant, aloof
solitary refuge, retreat,
 escape, safe haven, sanctuary
  from life trials and tribulations;
points of memory, subtle laughter, 
 remembered heartache and tears,
  in picture frames, photographs, and reading books,
old school technology with paper, ink, and pen
 scratchings of time and place, 
  etchings recovered and erased;
windows clean and wide, 
 open view portrait, vignette, a snapshot
  to the world outside
visionary images of changes of the seasons
 spring buds, blossoms and blooms
  summer gardens exuberant with living visions
autumn color cavalcades
  glistening thru the shade
   warm sun lilting in reflective passage,
aging armchair warrior greeting time as it passes
  clinging to the memories revived
   within my sitting room.

Final Considerations

When they carry me out of here, they’ll first have to take me from my bedroom to my sitting room, squeezing through the narrow hallway connecting the two, in order to then re-open the in-ward swinging door through which they entered my apartment. They’ll then have access to the stairway descending to the ground floor exit and be able to angle me down and bear me to the outside world, never to return again. But in the brief time they’ll have stood in my sitting room, they will likely have judged it to be a place “of cleanliness and good order,” with everything in its place, reminiscent of a furniture store show room. I hope they’ll also have taken notice of the photo of my smiling children on the end table by my chair. Given the sterility of all the rest, it is the only tangible evidence that a life ever actually occupied that room other than to keep it tidy. Whoever packs up that photo when they clear out my things had better treat it with reverence and respect; I know they loved me.

Why Do Flowers Blossom

When I 'm small, I ask my mother
Why do flowers blossom
This is what my mother says
Flowers blossom
To bring beauty to the world
To bring admirations to the children
To bring decorations to the hair
To bring a gift to the vase
To bring fragrance to the sitting-room
To bring grandeur to the stage
To bring lovers together
To bring warmth to the sick
To bring remembrance to the death
To give birth to a seed or a fruit
And you're like a flower
Blossoming to bring happiness and hope
To the family

An Alien In Autumn

Autumn brought its early cold nip in the sitting room,
Father’s spirit was down, a shot of whisky helped.
Mother thought it was time to set up the fireplace.
In came the alien with pointed ears, strange dress and all.
An ugly gun was in his hand, as the clock struck nine.
“All submit to my powers,” the mighty alien cried.
Mother smiled and elevated him to bed.
“Time to sleep, Mr. Spock. Your Enterprise will come tomorrow!”

A Diabetic To His Steward

A diabetic to his steward

On the table is your sack letter,
Beside my unfinished tea, no better;
Four photocopies of it in my file,
Their original to be collected by you;
Sure evidence that your stewardship was all rubbish
And that, henceforth, I would to you be snobbish.

Your offence was the many sugar cubes in my tea,
For which I had painfully continued to pee;
A bizarre blood sugar level from the lab!
Pictures of my grave finished off with a slab!

Yours was a clever murder move,
My ceaseless tremors there to this prove.

You‘d tried to my door unbolt to an undertaker 
And my journey begin back to my maker.

You may now go to my sitting room
For your last wage
But don’t fail to storm my bedroom
For your luggage.
And, please, do forget my clothes in the Laundry,
For even now, they badly sense my quandary.

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