A private portrait daubed in flour on the clean surface is remembered long after the rock Cakes are buttered and eaten.
Just as a moment sharing time with a small girl who says Daddy will become the most important shared moment of all his life.
Years later with a grown up tear the small girl, now a Women and yet still with space to keep her small self inside.
Recalled the moment she shared with a now frail Father who still wanted to remember the private portrait daubed in flour on the clean surface.
As he smiled and died holding the loving hand that painted it.
Tilly stays shy in the shadows without fuss until
As railway cat do
She casts her green eye left
And her blue eye right
Seeing in multi colour danger out of sight
Tilly meets and greets the friend
She chose to meet
With whom she feels secure enough
To purr and eat
I am smiling because i’m happy as i’m writing
And it was Tilly the railway cat
That made me feel like that
Well said was shouted out as some dubious point was lit
By a Man who had clearly mistaken his words as wit
Said by someone as close when a snuggle by a solemn plot
Could take the place of a misted up window wave
All in black by the grave
And as the one longer car passed the other
They all watched as his mourning mother
Sought comfort in the deep Daimler seat
Ready to meet and greet and share her crustless sandwiches
For the second time this week
Sitting playing and shooting and further so speaking to a person in your ear piece who take’s precedence over people in your real life is now a norm. No not for my son with things to learn about life and how to share your time with your family and wife.
Sitting listening to bullying men with a cuddle for the joystick and a stern word for a partner who asks what time will you be home to fall asleep, as they ignore the urge to weep.
So strong the man with level 2 as his plan, better still if there’s two to prop up an ego with a promise so shallow to paddle is to take the piss, and drowning might just be asking why.
Are you making Two cry.
When we waited, with the rain just wet enough to trouble Gore Tex.
At least two of us knowing full well, that the wait was not worth our soaked state.
But as the rain slightly slowed, and a glimmer of hope slightly showed.
On at least two of our wet forlorn faces.
She turned up, giving us all a feeling of far off elation.
Then after softly rehearsing the taking of our wet cheeks in her hands, she actress – ley performed saying:
“I love You all so much…
But i need a lift to the station.”
Banging my head against a brick wall this morning.
Reminded me how hard it is.
Me stood in pyjama’s on the landing with a smoking sawn off Idea of grandeur.
When the phone rang.
But not as loud as the ringing n my head.
As i half wished i was dead.
And my idea of grandeur hung on by it’s teeth.
When all the while underneath
My real me became free.
Because It’s not dinner it’s tea.