Category: memories

Garden Settlement

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Remembering those days when we
went to the Garden Settlement and
sang for the golden oldies.

Red and white checked uniforms for
the girls, blue and maroon for the boys;
no in-between in those days,
no difference at the Catholic School.

Smiling faces attached to
weather-beaten, toil-soaked bodies;
some were almost ready for whatever
comes next; others were bored and lonely.

Presents arrived for the residents,
or the older people who seemed to
be forgotten; they beam with joy.

We were too young to appreciate
what we saw until one day like today,
sitting at the window waiting for
the storm, I remember that day.

I remember their faces, now all dead,
no doubt. I feel sadness for their
loneliness and wonder if I want to
grow older in this country, the world.

Red Cedars

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Sitting at the window watching
the way snow falls on red cedars.

Night crept up too quickly
as the days shorten to hours.

You are never far from my mind
as your tree grows taller and redder.

Snow covers our world of love,
and the red cedars stand tall.

The red cedars stand tall;

they are a reminder of the blood
and the way you passed from light,

sitting at the window, watching the
way snow falls on what was our love.

Your Kitchen

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Sunlight moves in to shine a ray of
heated light through the window.

Sitting at your table, thinking about
how you used to stand, talk, smile.

A bowl of fruit on the table matches
the fruit pattern on the sink tiles.

A nook where you stood and made
a cuppa while we talked about life.

Sitting in your kitchen thinking about
all these moments we didn’t cherish.

Sunlight starts moving away from the table
as the sunset turns the sky pink and grey.

Grandma in the Kitchen

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A well-meaning gesture of kindness and love,
Grandma takes the jar from the top shelf and
inspects the lollies shaped like Turtle Doves.

Then, one by one, Grandma passes a lolly around,
so she may hear their delight and sweet chewing.

Once the children are sitting, the music starts,
Grandma begins the old-time dance to her song,
and the laughter begins, for all the steps are wrong.

Thistle Regrets

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Dreaming of the way her hills of green surround me, how her waters flow, that flower on Mum’s brooch.

That Bonnie Lass kissed me, and I was in love until I backed off and left her standing still, crying like an angel.

A bloody git with no love to give; I sit on park benches wishing for a bit of ‘The Guard’ treatment once a week.

The lassies don’t love an old cock, so I use face paint on me face to enhance my features, but it don’t help.

To think I feel ancient at 30! Not even Belle and Sebastian can save me ass, as she’s getting married today.

I swore I’d pop over, stand up like Elton John wanted to, and say I love you babe and I wanna kiss the bride, yeah!

Her vagina is for him now, so I can’t be taking a vagina that’s been freely given in the pleasures of consensual coitus.

I’m shite at love, yet there’s always hope in the valleys and the Loches that are 21st-century ladies and lassies.

Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t a sheep shagger; I just didn’t know love when it bit me or hit me between the eyes.

Speaking of the devil, there’s a lassie coming my way.
Could it be her? No. Yet she’s like strawberries and cream; I might have a tub.

Young and Foolish

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Lips of rose, powdered ivory cheeks,
dark long hair moving as she moved,
eyes of violet ice, mitten coal hands.

She was a flower blooming and dancing
for freedom on the lake that snowy day.

I was only a young, foolish boy watching
the way she moved, captivated, knowing.

Lips of rose turned white, ivory cheeks froze,
dark long hair became still, her eyes closed,
the mittens no longer danced in the snow.

I fled from her stillness, forever running from
that beautiful face I never stopped to love.