Ancestors moving pics

#TSL Pandorathon 29 When the ancestors left the photo frames at night .

They waited until I was snoring

Sure sign I was asleep

So they thought

But I was up to their tricks.

The first one to manifest herself

Was my grandmother

In her flapper gear

Leaving the stone bridge

She stood on across the lake

To the park island.

Mind you after a century 

One gets blasé 

Of the same landscape 

So one understand 

Her need to escape.

The second one

Was my mother

In her communion outfit

She couldn’t wait to get out of it

So unnatural it was

To her nature.

The third one was her cousin

In a bikini by the seashore

On the riviera, if you please,

Can you imagine

Spending fifty years 

On the shelf in that outfit?

It would drive someone 

Around the bend 

That’s a certainty.

Well the three of them

Swiftly disappeared 

From the bookshelf

When they came back 

My grandmother 

Had acquired an umbrella

Very wise woman indeed,

My mother had grown

Into a pink tailored suit

Even suitable in a church,

Her cousin though

Sported a fur coat and a fine hat

To hush all rumours of misbehaviour.

What had they been up to

I don’t know

But since that night

I keep replacing their pictures 

On a regular basis.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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