The boarding party.

The gathering was informal
Dressed in what was comfortable
For the cold February day.
Here in front of the window,
The panoramic view across
The fields
Stationary as a postcard
Supported only memories.

My father leaned on the chair
As he always had when
Talking about too many cars
And the age of girls having babies.
We listened trying to avoid
Time passing
Trying to be brave for him,
For ourselves.

The Norman church on the Alan Bay
Road, a place of historic beauty,
Where on holidays we stopped,
To eat the days remaining sandwiches;
Received our mother into the parish
There reunited with her father, Frank.
In the air a gentle voice called helping
tired feet make that last mile home.

Love to My mother Grace Emily Westbrook and my dad Eric William Henry Ayton-Robinson .