The bowl filled with hot water,
the dishes and cutlery from lunch
await my attention;
*But back then
in the days of sixties summers the
beaches beckoned*
The glasses first
followed by the plates, careful not
to over-do the coarse green back
of the sponge on the china;
*And us
hand in hand in our rolled up jeans
strolling where the sea meets sand*
Knives followed by the forks followed
by the spoons and as I look out of the
window the martins fly to and fro
feeding their young;
*I can still hear the noise of gulls
and the whooshing of
waves as we ran sideways up the
pebbles trying to avoid getting soaked*
“Where are the clean tea towels” I ask
and you call out
“In the top draw on the right”
When I´ve finished this we´ll sit outside
with a glass of red;
Funny how our taste changes over the years,
*in those days of sunshine
and sand in toes it would have been
Blue Nun or Mateus Rose
and the washing up
was probable the last thing on our minds*...
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
The bowl filled with hot water,
the dishes and cutlery from lunch
await my attention;
*But back then
in the days of sixties summers the
beaches beckoned*
The glasses first
followed by the plates, careful not
to over-do the coarse green back
of the sponge on the china;
*And us
hand in hand in our rolled up jeans
strolling where the sea meets sand*
Knives followed by the forks followed
by the spoons and as I look out of the
window the martins fly to and fro
feeding their young;
*I can still hear the noise of gulls
and the whooshing of
waves as we ran sideways up the
pebbles trying to avoid getting soaked*
“Where are the clean tea towels” I ask
and you call out
“In the top draw on the right”
When I´ve finished this we´ll sit outside
with a glass of red;
Funny how our taste changes over the years,
*in those days of sunshine
and sand in toes it would have been
Blue Nun or Mateus Rose
and the washing up
was probable the last thing on our minds*...
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