Days of Mine...and, If Onlys

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Tue, 04 Mar 2014
  • 959 reads
10 comments
 
For her, way back then, each day 
was a colour; Monday – black, 
meant school again, Tuesday – blue, 
Wednesday – green, Friday – red, 
 
and the weekend, pink...
her favourite colour, the colour 
of her room.
 
For me, one special day I still recall, 
was the colour of oranges cooling
in little gingham topped jars...matched
the afternoon sun as it filtered through trees
and in through the kitchen window.
 
Helping my granddaughter make a gift
for her mum; bottling love, I called it,
as a marmalade afternoon, all too soon,
turned to a lemon-curd early evening; 
 
each slip and slap of the spoon in the pan 
adding to history; the same spoon used
by my gran, and her mother before, or so
she told me, monogrammed EPNS.
 
Silver – wide-mouthed and eloquent -
could whip up a storm of a batter,
for toad-in the hole, or smooth talk 
eggs and cream to make a dream
of a chocolate ganache. 
 
And so, day slides into night; the jars
replete – resplendent with expectation
cooling on the dresser; 
 
watching the sun set, and the moon rise, 
from the back-porch steps, and the colour
of the sky – the deepest shade
of not wanting this to end.
 
Certificate U
Poem
Love
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Really enjoyed this peep into happy cooking, happy time with granddaughter, mixed with older memories and the sunlight and sky.

My memory of day-colours seemed more to do with the colour association with letters, and days had a different shade in Welsh and English, though the greyness of Thursday did seem to have something to do with that there were usually lessons I didn't enjoy that day, and I was tired of school!
Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hi there, Rhiannon,

Many thanks for reading, and for letting us take a peep at your childhood.  Lovelysmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

'the deepest shade of not wanting this to end' - how beautiful is that. 'Bottling love' - perfect - (as usual)

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Many thanks, Bee, so very pleased you enjoyed and took the time and trouble to tell me.smiley

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I love the idea of having time to do the things that I want,  rather than the things I have to do.  Your poem captured that for me as I read Tina.

A captivating read that as always enchanted me.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Appreciate your taking the time to read this, Jenny, and I'm so pleased it didn't disappointsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

I like this, and some lovely lines.

When my mother died I managed to sort out all her belongings but for some reason the cutlery drawer reduced me to floods of tears. Such simple things have so many memorie,

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Many thanks, SG.  Pleased you liked this, and yes, it is the simple things, as you say.

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

Synaesthetic memories beautifully preserved. Your use of colour is imaginative. If only we could have jam jars of memories, let them out again like fireflies at night.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Oh, that would be wonderful, indeed, Vera.  

I have only ever seen fireflies once in my life, and that was when I was in and around New Orleans in the early seventies.  Sitting on our friends' front porch, with the crickets chirriping away, too... Magic! Those surely were the days, for me, at least.

Many thanks for your lovely comment; animated, as ever.

Tina