Love in Difficult Times
Secrets and Ties
‘ … treasures kept and hidden away standing still as the time flew by… ‘
drawers below the cutlery. cupboards above the flour. those secret keeps for memories my fingers skilfully explored. mother’s real-steel knitting needles and a box of traveller’s lace unused but never thrown away. hidden — well. just in case. a tarnished silver sixpence together with a lucky thrupenny bit clasped within a beaded purse unclosed because of a toothless zip. a tobacco tin with rusty pins beneath a pile of starched-white napkin linen. butterfly embroidered tablecloths. false teeth. chipped smiles. no longer grinning. silver spoons and porcelain plates and cups and cards and trimming. a silken scarf. a cracked Dutch vase. wrapped in a sweater awaiting pinning. table mats with pics of local pubs and a picture of Binx the dog. a marbled egg for every Easter and a moth-eaten Christmas dove. birthday candles. a spare door handle. and a 1950s candle holder. an electric knife. a locked diary of life amongst patterns in a pastel folder. a satin fan in cellophane never opened in case it breaks. a ten shilling note in an envelope next to two free mending kits. cotton reels ribbons and name tags rolled and secured with elastic bands. white-kid gloves buttons and a box of studs and a sketch of a seating plan. an old shoe lace. with an unknown face. in a black and white sepia photo. hidden in a book. with a no name note. just words. and an old school logo. treasures kept and scurried away. standing still as the time flew by. for now they are merely memories. of a time passed over. but a time. that will never. die.
©2023 Sally A Mortemore . All rights reserved.
Thank you for reading 🙏
Where I grew up there were two drawers in the kitchen which I was not allowed to look through. Not sure why, but that was my mother’s wish. She obviously had her reasons. As I grew older, and I was left at home on my own, sometimes I would kneel on the floor, and go through these drawers meticulously relishing each relic with wonder. Once, I went to the drawers and my mother had obviously had a clear out. I was utterly devastated. How could she have thrown things away! When it came to clearing her house after she died these drawers gave me solace. All these years later I still have most of the things which were hidden in them. I am a terrible hoarder. I am also a terrible romantic, and at the moment particularly melancholic.
I hope you enjoyed this funny little verse 🦋 It was in response to the wonderful prompt by Indubala Kachhawa for Paper Poetry, please see below:
There isn’t an awful lot of time left to write only a few hours, but tagging a few people just in case they have something ready to go which is suitable: Kristina Gaffny , Anthi Psomiadou , Nia Ria , Obinna Uruakpa and by no means least Marilyn J Wolf .
A Petrarchan Sonnet also written for Paper Poetry:
