Dust of dishes

We cried her home in tear and laughter.
Reddened eyes and smiles,
tears streaming down those beloved faces.
Silver jewels on charming ladies cheeks,
Men, strength shown in the home of death,
alone we shed them all,
fat tears of loss and tears of laughter.
She made us strong but humble.
We honoured her with spoken words
and woven memories. A shroud of us,
who she bound so tight in days and years
when she was all there was,
the glue that held us all together.
This disparate band of thieves,
she leaves us unrepentant.

We told stories of her and her love.
A legendry heart that pulled the sun
out of its orbit.
We drank tea and memories from ugly china cups
and ate sandwiches from hated plates.
Tradition satisfied, It would have annoyed her
to distraction.
She was life! Not the sad detritus of grief.
Then Amanda remembered her wish,
we cheered in another flood of smiling tears
and laughter.
Then we smashed all those dishes
she so hated. Like children we danced
in healing rain of chinks and chips

Remembering in each crash and fall,
the braveness that was a mother to us all.
A last gift bestowed, laughter.
Days recalled amongst the dust of dishes
and the fragmented delft
that she so hated

– Dave Kavanagh

Remembering a special lady from many years ago.

One thought on “Dust of dishes

  1. You a very great word master. You’ve said it, showed it and filled me up with emotions of my own. Once again, I can see everything as though I was right there. I think you are one of the greatest poets I have ever read. Thank you, and keep them coming.

    Liked by 1 person

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