CLINGING ON

A dinner plate, ‘Sunday Morning’ picture,
last of a set; treasured in our first home.

Gift from loving parents, now gone
like the dishes…just one left to remind me,

stirring memories in the washing-up bowl;
thankfully, not dishwasher-proof.

Dad squatting on the back door-step,
tea cupped, viewing his garden.

Mum’s knitting…hopeless, but
scrabbled eggs, creamy smooth perfection.

Dad’s wit, sense of the ridiculous
living on in our children,

blessing us with laughter
in the remembering.

© Marion Sharville

About Marion Sharville

A website of Poems and Short stories
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