That impish look – dripping wet
from your shower when I’d wrap you
in a towel and how your eyes lit up
when I’d bring you breakfast in bed
as a surprise. How I talked you out
of suicide when you backed out our drive
straight across the road, and left Mr. Taylor’s
new Mercedes somewhat … modified.
How good an artist you were. One day,
who knows, there might just be a market
for off-kilter rainbows. How you lived
for your garden, your plants and seedlings.
The pomegranate tree you fertilised
by hand with a tiny sable paintbrush
and I remarked how expert you were
at playing birds and bees, and we made it
a first on the greenhouse floor. How you
blushed from then on if you happened to
bump into our next-door neighbours.
The day you mowed a rat. Previously dead
you hastened to add. Out of sight, out of mind,
your philosophy. Till the mower seized up
and it was down to me to fix it, and boy,
did that mower stink! One evening in spring,
when you rescued a newly-hatched chick
from the jaws of next door’s cat, cupped
in your hands, like you were praying.
Later on, you confessed that you did.
When they said I had Parkinson’s Disease
and you dried my tears – bought me a T-shirt that said,
‘Speedy Gonzalez’ in response to my overworked
phrase, “Sorry it’s taking so long, but I don’t do ‘quick’!”
So much I could have written, but I didn’t see fit.
Couldn’t see for looking what was right there
under my nose. And so, for what it’s worth,
this is your story. The one I never wrote.
Comments
threeleafshamrock | February 12, 2009 - 21:19
Only beautiful Tina! Lovely, interesting, moving etc...full of memories that you couldn't just make up. I love all of it but the last stanza does it for me; from the Parkinson's Disease to the 'Speedy Gonzalez' to the last 2 lines. Brilliant; I think I smell cherries!
Chris XX
Silver Spun Sand | February 13, 2009 - 12:57
Chris - thank you for reading. They always say, don't they, that truth is stranger than fiction ... and sometimes, a lot more amusing or poignant, as the case may be.
Tina XX
Bradene | February 13, 2009 - 14:31
This is Lovely Tina, and so deserving of the cherries. Val x
luigi_pagano | February 13, 2009 - 16:29
Tina, quality always shows and this is no exception.
Luigi xxx
Silver Spun Sand | February 14, 2009 - 13:00
Val - many thanks. Hope you have a sunny Valentine's Day.
Tina xx
Silver Spun Sand | February 14, 2009 - 13:02
Well - there's only one thing to say to you, or maybe two on second thoughts, dear Luigi, and that is thank you and to wish you an extra-special Valentine's Day:-)
Tina xxx
Nathan Bednarek | February 14, 2009 - 13:37
This is amazing and so touching. For some reason I hear 'Let it be' by the Beatles when I read this poem.
The story feels like a diary entry and the language reads like a song. This is brilliant work dear Tina.
Well done- this is turning into a cliché ;-p
Nathan.
Silver Spun Sand | February 14, 2009 - 18:19
Cliche all you like, dear Nathan and thank you, so very much, for all your interest and inspired comments. 'Let it be'. Always.
Tina
jennifer | March 6, 2009 - 09:25
My grandmother had Parkinson's. It is a terrible disease, and watching her alter over the years was heartrending. Personal, humbling and moving.
J x
tarashannon | May 22, 2009 - 12:42
Wonderful ^^
Silver Spun Sand | May 22, 2009 - 13:51
Jennifer - please forgive my late reply, but I had overlooked your touching comment completely. Now with the advent of this new system we have, it is much easier to keep track.
Thank you again for reading and for your words.
T x
Silver Spun Sand | May 22, 2009 - 13:52
tarashannon - my sincere appreciation to you for reading this poem and for letting me know it meant something to you.
Tina