a rose cheeked gardener's daughter

Salty soups and fur ridden carpets

The flat an entire world of its own,

Full of distant memories,

Summoned by smells of mackintosh spice.

I have remembered you clearly,

Even when you have gone away.

Glass bowls full of forbidden sweet sensations,

That rattled revealing whenever a hand was set upon it.

Dear, dear

What have you done with yourself?

Your vodka in the fridge, our cider in the bathroom.

Always stubborn and keen to ignore

The nagging words of those younger.

All your bucketfuls of chemicals,

So close to the half bottle of brandy.

Sent you to the psychiatric ward you say,

Where you went while I was away,

And they couldn’t wash your young-looking hair.

Hair that sister and I so lovingly inherited.

We brought you the chocolates,

The chocolates you couldn’t eat, gladly.

You were and are my childhood,

Your love has set me going for miles,

The brief spells of secrets you shared with me abroad,

In that little foreign harbour town you so liked to visit.

Sweet tales of us who let the wine go to our heads.

Years before us siblings had dolls to play with,

And you had mussels to eat.

I think continually of how I’d look up to you,

What is precious I’ll never forget.

Now forever wrapped in your cable cardigan,

I have known you, all so well

And yet so little.

I wish had time to tell, you came to me in a dream

And younger than yourself you said I’m alright,

Not even a mirror image of when I saw you last.

There is dust in the room and the sun shines through it.

Long forgotten jars in the empty full fridge,

And particles of forgotten-ness floating,

Like tiny ghosts longing for companionship.

The bed is still unmade, the last warm body to

Have soaked the sheets

Now lies cold.

All the scrawled letters, all the dirty glasses

Seem as if such a presence was never lost

To the airs now beyond reach.

Strange to almost hear the voice

That so often uttered Scottish-tinged snaps

Towards two sniggering granddaughters.

Strange to think the brand new dress

Would never opt for another

Scope of confidence.

I have taken the waxed coat, the Buddha;

emerald green and smooth wood.

Your corner cabinet

Shall stand soon when I have my own.

Before you drifted,

The watch signifying our greatest enemy was mine to keep.

I would like to be with you in the air,

To float for a while

To ask the un-askable

To think about the thinkable

To contemplate the lady

I so miss now.

Too clean wards

Encase you

Hearts clenching, smells drifting

Little did we know

About you

How lonely

This place is

Mutterings and funny smells

Nursie Mc Nurse

Come to prick your finger

Senile, you say

They’re out to get you

If only I could put myself in your place

It’s not difficult to understand

If only time wasn’t against us, you

This world is a lonely place

And its pretty dull in there

So close to getting out

And breathing the fresh air

So close, away from that senile air –

Another week

Dolly mixtures, shampoo.

I can’t quite get close to crying yet

Why don’t I save it later

there’s always time for that.

Hasn’t quite sunk in yet

Slow, aching process

In the middle of the aching heart

The utter stench of grief

Lingers in that senile air.