Before our worlds unraveled, then knotted,
Before life pulled our friendship apart,
Untethered our hearts, then shattered,
Do you remember,
Our laughter and blue stained fingers,
Our common goal, our only enemy,
The laden branches and brambles,
At the edge of your grandma’s garden?
44 words for this week’s Quadrille on d’Verse Poet’s Pub. The prompt: brambles.
Jo-Anne Teal, Writer 
What lovely memories your words bring! So happy you joined us.
Thank you, Linda, and thank you again for the providing a prompt full of summer memory!
Poignant. Those days have gone for all of us, even when there were no tangles in between.
Life goes by in a heartbeat – something we’d never have believed when we were children. Thank you for reading and commenting, Jane.
Too busy making memories.
Bittersweet memories, with a tug of war between wanting to remember them and wanting to forget them. Nicely done.
Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes, memories are like that, aren’t they? Sometimes I think if they’re examined too much, we’ll find out they aren’t all we thought. Still…
You’re welcome, Jo-Anne.
Perfectly said.
(And well written, Jo-Anne.)
Such bittersweet nostalgia in this one, Jo-Anne ❤️ Gorgeously rendered.
Sanaa, you are always kind. Thank you!
Poet as tightrope walker, writing on the edge of an emotional razor. Grandma’s garden sounds haunting.
Thanks so much, Glenn. As Neil Young sang: “Hey, hey. My, my. There’s more to the picture, than meets the eye.” I do love the idea of a garden with secrets.
Aww, this is beautifully written. Memories hold such an impact, especially with nostalgia of old friendships made from childhood. What a lovely poem that explicates such themes of reminiscence.
Thank you so much, Lucy. It is surprising how old friendships, that meant so much and changed us, can slip away. I was glad to have a chance to near the subject.
Sweet blue-stained memories. Good to look back to the good times.
Thank you, Beverly. Yes, I agree. I always like to have a bit of colour among the sepia.
This prompt brought out everyone’s memories, the bitter and the sweet and the thorny, in more ways than one.
Thanks, Xan. It really did, didn’t it?! My first thought when I saw the prompt was curly witch hazel trees (Harry Lauder Walking Stick bushes) but I liked the play on words about thorny pasts.
i am tangled, your poem snagged me in the thorns of your past, your story. i crave the untold part..
Thank you for reading and commenting. Life is quite a journey, isn’t it? Most of it has to remain untold :))
Childhood friendships are precious. ❤ I'm blessed to still keep in touch with some women I went to elementary school with. we're not as close anymore, but we see each other a couple of times a year (usually).
Hi, Jenna. Thanks so much for stopping to read and comment. So nice you’ve had the opportunity to stay in touch with people you knew from your youth. There’s a lovely shorthand when connecting, isn’t there?
Friendships may wane but they leave sweet memories.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Lynn. Yes and we learn so much about ourselves from those early bonds.
This poem is a blackberry in itself – sweet, a little touch of bitterness to add savour, the risk of getting scratched. There’s something lurking.
Sarah, thanks so much for commenting! Life, from childhood to adulthood, is certainly complex, isn’t it? 🙂
Your memories of summer days and friendships past are warm and poignant. Sadly, so many friends are left behind because life gets in the way. Childhood summers stay longer in the memory, and blackberry picking always came at the end, before the first day back at school; some of us still do it – and bake the occasional blackberry pie or crumble.
Thank you, Kim, for your warm comments. Traditions set in childhood do colour our adult worlds, don’t they?
Very well done! You expressed our present state so well as we stay apart and long for the old normal!
Dwight
Hi Dwight, thank you for your kind words! It’s odd times with strange energy, isn’t it? In British Columbia, we are now all about ‘bubbles’ – who is in your bubble of people to spend time with and who isn’t in your bubble. It can be very isolating and certainly make one long for the informal normal of only a few months ago!
Yes, it does get tedious at times. Feels a bit like the movie Ground Hog Day… Nothing ever changes. Now we all know what the folks in the nursing home must feel like!
I could see me giving this to my sister. She no longer wishes to speak to me. I am not sure why.
I was trying to capture those early innocent times before life interferes with other voices. Thank you for understanding.
It is painful when someone makes a decision like your sister yet doesn’t tell us why. It’s a double-edged cut. I hope you have found peace.
I have finally. It took losing my husband and son to see who impacts my life in a positive way. I can’t waste days on drama. There are many decisions from my past that I had gotten advice from her, that I now wish I could go back and change. Hindsight bias! Have a great rest of your day!
Great. the subtlety of this poem allowed me to look back in time and recall friendships we allowed to melt away with forgotten goals.
Thank you for the kind words, Bill. Sometimes I think my writing ‘subtlety’ could actually be better described as it being ‘spare’. I’m glad if it resonated with you. And yes, those friendships do melt away even if somewhere in our hearts we know it is intentional. Thanks again.
My pleasure.