12-12-2013, 07:59 PM
But now she’s gone and in her house, we shiver with funerial stress,
and gather to assay her life, though loathe to stamp our claims out loud.
Silently we move around, and smile on every treasure touched;
We carefully handle, bag and box, the broken doll in crumpled dress,
old photographs, canned Oxtail soup, biscuits bought for friends to tea.
Pink table napkins, new and folded, indicate a woman proud.
Pride was virtue in her world of chintzy cherubs, china cups;
strange that wealth summed in a life could hide such human poverty.
We look to where she hung her plates; circles of her time in grime.
The empty spaces on the wall darkened as life's curtains drew.
Gaps between each precious place got longer as her passion left.
The last I hooked on to its pin, a week ago, it left no sign.
Another birthday gift had joined the sad procession. We could tell,
no more would Blacksmith, Basket Weaver, Flower Girl or Lambing Ewe,
Cheese Purveyor, Fresh Fish Monger,Cobbler, Cooper, Weave and Weft,
ever mean so much again… as once they did to Aunty Del.
OriginaL
I look to where she hung her plates; circles of her time in grime.
The empty spaces on the wall darkened as her days grew few.
Gaps between each precious place got longer as her passion left.
The last I hooked on to its pin, a week ago, it left no sign.
Another birthday gift had joined the sad procession. We could tell
that no more Blacksmith, Basket Weaver, Flower Girl or Lambing Ewe,
Cheese Purveyor, Fresh Fish Seller, Cobbler, Hooper, Weave and Weft
would ever mean so much again… as once they did to Aunty Del.
Adelice Cansfield
1917-2013
and gather to assay her life, though loathe to stamp our claims out loud.
Silently we move around, and smile on every treasure touched;
We carefully handle, bag and box, the broken doll in crumpled dress,
old photographs, canned Oxtail soup, biscuits bought for friends to tea.
Pink table napkins, new and folded, indicate a woman proud.
Pride was virtue in her world of chintzy cherubs, china cups;
strange that wealth summed in a life could hide such human poverty.
We look to where she hung her plates; circles of her time in grime.
The empty spaces on the wall darkened as life's curtains drew.
Gaps between each precious place got longer as her passion left.
The last I hooked on to its pin, a week ago, it left no sign.
Another birthday gift had joined the sad procession. We could tell,
no more would Blacksmith, Basket Weaver, Flower Girl or Lambing Ewe,
Cheese Purveyor, Fresh Fish Monger,Cobbler, Cooper, Weave and Weft,
ever mean so much again… as once they did to Aunty Del.
OriginaL
I look to where she hung her plates; circles of her time in grime.
The empty spaces on the wall darkened as her days grew few.
Gaps between each precious place got longer as her passion left.
The last I hooked on to its pin, a week ago, it left no sign.
Another birthday gift had joined the sad procession. We could tell
that no more Blacksmith, Basket Weaver, Flower Girl or Lambing Ewe,
Cheese Purveyor, Fresh Fish Seller, Cobbler, Hooper, Weave and Weft
would ever mean so much again… as once they did to Aunty Del.
Adelice Cansfield
1917-2013