The smell of clothes dried in the hot summer sun
This poem captures a nostalgic childhood memory of bringing in clothes dried in the hot summer sun with her mother. The poem evokes the joy and warmth of the moment, reflecting on the sensory experience of the sunshine-infused clothes.
This poem reflects my memory of time spent with my mother. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers reading this poem. I wrote this poem, in 2019, after bringing my clothes in from drying outside in the sunshine on a hot sunny day while living in Yeppoon, Central Queensland. This poem reflects on a pleasant childhood memory that I remember through the smell of clothes dried in the hot summer sun.
The Wilted Rose is a novel based on the good, the bad, the happy and the sad life of my mother and my childhood. Over the next month, I will publish poems, exerts from the book and references to songs that reflect the ambience of the moment.
I wrote this poem, one summer day while living in sunny Yeppoon, Central Queensland after I brought the clothes in from drying outside in the sunshine. Beverley Joy.
Listen HERE – Poem – The Scent of Sunshine
Breathe deep the sunshine in the clothes.
I close my eyes and go back in time
When I was but a little child
I can see Mum standing in the sun
It’s time to bring the dry clothes in.
Her curls dancing, her skirt swaying
To the song she sings in the summer breeze
I skip and dance around my mum
As she folds the clothes that had dried in the sun.
The sun was captured in the folds of the fabric
I was so excited that we could have
The sun with us inside our house.
Mum put my clothes on the end of my bed
I’d pick them up and breathe in deep
Holding the sun deep inside me
Filling my lungs, my cells, my feet.
Breathe deep the sunshine in the clothes.
My dreaming ends when I open my eyes
But the scent of the sun lingers on
As I stand barefoot in the summer sun
And smell the clothes crisp and dry on the line.
Standing in the summer breeze
My hair dancing, my skirt swaying
To the song, I’m singing in the summer breeze.
Breath deep the sunshine in the clothes.
Anytime I can capture the sun
In the folds of the clothes that have dried in the sun
I can keep the sun and the memory
Inside my home, inside my soul.
Beverley Joy © 2019 of Simply Story Poetry
You can listen to all my poems on several podcast platforms here
Simply Story Poetry 
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