"It's All about the Bag this Spring..."

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Fri, 15 Apr 2016
  • 1872 reads
8 comments
 
 
Light green crocodile skin, her precious handbag, 
from an age of Bogart and Cary Grant – of genuine   
silk-stockings with seams, Max-Factor’s
little Crème-Puff compact.
 
It went everywhere with her...
even suffering from dementia, as she was 
when first she came here; never once forgotten, 
not even then.
 
Upstairs, downstairs, it was at her side,
either by her bed, or at her feet by a chair
with its chintz, cream-lace chair-back
and its less than chintz cherry-red velour,
incontinence protection pad.
 
When she finally passed on...a spinster,
no kin left alive to speak of, felt I was intruding...
delving deep inside her heart, as I tipped its contents out.
 
A purse with only hairpins in, a packet of Polos
a dog-eared diary, 1946... an ancient telegram...
wafer thin, a lipstick, minus lid,
 
and a fragile, folded letter...inside a pocket-sized
photo of an airman...‘Yours, ever, Frank’, 
May 14th, 1945, both were signed.
 
An ivory, moire-silk lining, reeking of Sinatra 
and Sobrani – of ‘Arpege’ and L’Air du Temps,
of the day her fiancé went missing...
presumed dead. 
Certificate 12
Biography
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Love
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

One can imagine the feel and smell of the familiar bag must have been a comfort when senses and memories confused. Rhiannon (I've been offline a week!)

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hello there, Rhiannon.  I have been thinking about you and wondering if you were OK, so I am relieved, annoying as it is, that it was for technical reasons, and things, otherwise, are well with you.

Thanks, so much for reading, and I am glad you enjoyed.  The lady in question to whom the handbag belonged was indeed a dear aunt of mine.  She never spoke of her fiance, and I had no idea that she had carried these precious things around with her for all that time.  She was so very special, and would have made a lovely mum....which she was to my kids on the many business trips I had to make when she would hold fort, and my children always adored her.

Tina

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Just to say the technical reasons were just being on holiday without wifi connection, and we don't have mobile internet – so a peaceful time! and to say the aunt taking charge sounds very lovely. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hi again, Rhiannon, and I am so pleased all is well.  Hope you had a lovely time on holiday, and it sounds as if you did.  As to my aunt, it was such a blow when she passed on at the start of the new millenium.  We all miss her very much, and so it's been nice talking about her.  

Tina

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Tina

What a lovely poem, and it would make into an interesting longer story I am sure. But nice to have her life commenerated in a poem too. I've never been a handbag sort of person, so nobody would learn anything of my life if they checked mine out.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hi there, Jean and many thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts.  Yes, I must write a longer story about her.  She was such an interesting character, and full of surprises.  As to handbags, must admit, I can take them or leave them, but I wouldn't be without my 'old faithful', but I doubt its contents would be half as interesting as my dear aunt'ssmiley

Have a peaceful Sunday.

Tina

 

Submitted by VeraClark on

This is lovely, a bag of eclectic historic treats. 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks Vera...good of you to drop by...with or without your handbagsmiley

Tina