“Whispers Warm Within.”

by Pat Fitzgerald, posted in Poetry

Returning with this poem back to a structure I like best, after the past couple of poems. This is a method I like best and far more enjoyable… In this Poem I look back to days growing up, although I use imagry that may imply one way, The over all hint of childhood back then is the same. I used methods and lines that have been constructed for this poem.


Author’s Note: This poem reflects a wandering return to the rural roots of childhood, where winter woods, worn lanes, and quiet sanctuaries shaped a young mind. It captures the contrast between the clarity of youthful wonder and the complexities of adulthood, honouring how those early moments continue to warm and guide the heart.

As one who was born and in fact grew up in and around a small rural town, where the pace of life was far slower than it is today. Even though I now live on the outskirts of Cork City in the Republic of Ireland, My love, life and passion all stems from its rural roots.

Where the warm memories of Childhood come to mix witha mind that wanders for creative juices to flow, can have a result like this below. Hold the warm memories close to revisit on occasions and others, set free.

This is not the best image for this Poem But it has to work for this one as the Poem is enough for this topic. . All thanks go to AI and its attempt to provide the image I asked for. Thus credit goes there

“Whispers Warm Within.” 




Strolling highways, byways of a kind,
An unburdened mind to cold that claws yet blind;
This wandering mind still moves with purpose then,
Though troubles tug at both timid mice and men.


For fighting, figured thoughts did freely flow,
Yet many more meandered, soft and slow;
Never a chore to choose the chorus when
My eyes edged back on all that lived back then.


Down lanes long lost of childhood days I stood,
If flee I could to weathered, wintered wood,
Where time tore down that timbered temple away
To seasons shifting shapes through adult play.


Where we once wandered, or stood still that day,
Unknowing why our reason rolled away;
Young hearts held fire though frail their fledgling age,
Where wild winters wrote on each child's page.


Carry me carefully, carefree through that made
Those memories where golden moments played;
Through snow or sleet or shine, it felt divine,
That place once pressed its pattern on this spine of mine.


So let those echoed evenings still remain,
Their whispers warm within my woven frame;
For though the paths have passed from sight since then,
Their quiet quilt, still quilts the heart again.




Copyright © 2025 Pat Fitzgerald 
All Rights Reserved

ENDING THOUGHTS:

Thank you for following me on my little journey, that is composing or writing poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on and my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.

At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feed back is always most welcome for such as these.

When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.

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13 thoughts on ““Whispers Warm Within.””

    1. Thank You Billy, yes I am a little fussy on how my poetry is presented, I had a couple of issues with the last couple of Poems that I had to take care of and improve.. But geting is right on occasions has a good feeling.. again thank you.

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  3. What a beautiful and deeply reflective piece Pat 🤝 Your poem, paired with the author’s note, creates a resonant and complete experience. It is clear this comes from a place of profound personal truth.

    Your “method,” as you call it—this return to a familiar, cherished structure—suits the subject matter perfectly. The measured, almost hymn-like rhythm and rhyme evoke the steady, enduring pace of those rural childhood days, creating a powerful contrast with the “troubles” that tug at the present. The imagery is masterful: the “cold that claws yet blind,” the “weathered, wintered wood,” the “quiet quilt” that still comforts the heart. These are not just pretty phrases; they are tactile, emotional anchors that pull the reader directly into your remembered world.

    The most moving aspect is the balance you strike between wistfulness and strength. There is no mere nostalgia here, but a recognition of how those “golden moments” actively “warm within [your] woven frame” and continue to “quilt the heart again.” You honor the past not as a lost thing, but as a living, guiding force. The poem itself becomes an act of carrying those memories “carefully, carefree,” proving that the sanctuary of those lanes and woods remains intact within you.

    Thank you for sharing this journey back to your rural roots. It is a poignant reminder of how the landscapes of our childhood continue to shape the geography of our inner lives, offering clarity and warmth no matter where we find ourselves. This is not just a recollection; it is a restoration. Truly lovely work.

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    1. Hi , I am almost beyond words following reading your comment. As one who was born and grew up in the country side, I treasure such places both for their impact on a life growing up in the midst of such beauty but also in the memoriesheld in such places, also compared to city life where I now reside that is fast paced. Thank you for such a wonderful comment..

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  4. I loved this Pat!!! Wow! I think you have a very great grip on your groove now!!

    Really loved these two stanzas and your alliteration!!!

    “Down lanes long lost of childhood days I stood,
    If flee I could to weathered, wintered wood,
    Where time tore     down that timbered temple away
    To seasons shifting shapes through adult play.

    Where we once wandered, or stood still that day,
    Unknowing why our reason rolled away;
    Young hearts held fire though frail their fledgling age,
    Where wild winters wrote on each child’s page.”

    These were so Great and captivating!!! Especially, loved that first line! So masterful and great creation of a visual image and Memories.

    Bravo, Pat, Bravo!!!!
    Chuck

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    1. Thank you Chuck, I have only just finsihed emailing and gave a quick look here on blog before venturing out after this latest storm.. LoL.. It is strange because those lines were playing in my mind for some time before I begun to write them.. So they worked outgeat. For me it serves as (a) a memory of older days when life semed easier and free contrasted to (b) Modern life in this city that seems far too fast paced where folks forget to slow a little and smell flowers etc Thus reading this also as a contrast between Childhood days in the country side to adult days in a city that is too far removed from it.. I also love playing with words so they can give images of other things when looked in different lights.. again thank you Chuck.

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