LUNCH WITH MY PEERS by Marion Sharville ©

Book by eleven, pay by twelve.
Are you diabetic? No?
It’s roast pork, today.
I pay and look for a vacant chair.

The room, awash with bent grey heads
and the busy chatter of dentures;
noise only silenced when lunch is served.
Chewing concentrates the mind.

Walking-aids stand patiently
beside their owners.
Taking the weight off one’s feet
removes a nice chunk of years.

A man in a shapeless cardigan
lightly flirts, still gallant.
Defiant earrings reign above
chins and busts responding to gravity.

Oh! Oh! Dorothy’s slipping.
Up-sa-daisy. Alright, dear?
Young helpers, all compassion,
think it’s a long way off.

Time for Bingo…eyes down;
blot out the numbers like bad memories.
Pot plant or Tetley tea-bags?
The real prize is shrinking the hours.

Everyone’s a winner!

Confidences offered, open portholes
into each other’s lives. We glimpse
the children, the women, the lovers;
reminds us of the people we were.

Now, we face what we have become;
still waking each day to the unknown,
we are survivors. Looking back,
we wonder how?

Everyone, a hero!



Come in, little one, come in,
sorry about the mess.
We’ve looked everywhere
but found little there,
while searching to find happiness.

There’s been such a lot going on,
we just haven’t known
if, on our set course,
we’re on foot or on horse back
but child, how the time’s flown.

The roof has a large gaping hole,
the garden’s a state.
We’ve woken up now
and wondering how
to change things before it’s too late.

It was fun while it lasted,
a great ‘free-for-all’.
It seems so absurd
but it never occurred
to query the price of it all.

© Marion Sharville


Welcome, little one.
I have looked forward
to your arrival;
my love already there,
waiting to grow;

your face, your personality
as yet unknown;
a mystery to unravel
through the years.

This brimming cornucopia
of questions, ideas, emotions,
yet to be awakened, will
enrich who ever you touch.

Already touching me, you are
unaware that I am part of you;
that many others have left gifts
for you, on the tree of life.

When the time is right,
you will pass them on,
adding your own unique

When we are face to face,
your features pencilled in,
you’ll see in mine a survey map
of every path I’ve travelled.

I’ll lend you my map, to avoid
the roads inked by regret.
But step out bravely;
plot your own course.

Your parents will steady you,
teach you the magic ‘Open Sesame’
to reveal the excitement of discovery.

Gaze always, with wonder.

© Marion Sharville

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