The blue glazed, cream jug,
Stood on a kitchen shelf,
Surrounded by loves' lessons,
For hoarding and cherishing,
Both what had been found,
And what had been given.
It was the only item of any fiscal value,
Picked for its classical simplicity,
Its rich colbalt colouring,
A wedding or anniversary gift,
From an art valuing relative.
It was all that was taken
When clearing the bungalow.

Love Mary ***

Love to my dear mother and father
Who lived a life of gentle simplicity
And reflective intellect. I miss you both.
Your daughter Mary ***