Filed under: destiny, growth, happiness, religion | Tags: couple, English, Ganesh, Indian, love, magenta, peridot, wedding
English at an Indian
Wedding, sitting in
The crowd among
The drums and
Auspices like weeds
Among the cultivated
Saries with their
Yellow and magenta
Blue topaz and
Peridot sheen.
Looking on Indians,
At home in their religion.
At One with
Whatever it is that
Made them.
The English hope It made them too,
When they come to looking
In the dusty files labelled
Wedding, funeral, birth.
God and gods and people and family weave
Together and in this
Web, the couple
Catch the tricks
They need,
Sharing the cords,
Keeping them taught
With Love,
The remover of all obtacles,
Ganesh.
Filed under: childhood, happiness, home, love, memories, nature, strength | Tags: blossom, bread, gran, ironing, mary, mash, pie, pudding, sea, winter
Mary moo Mary
You were there
When the blossom
Came, Mary you
Were there when
The winter
Went, Mary you
Are here just like
A Gran.
Standing ironing
Sitting moaning,
Laughing, crying,
Listening to ‘Lipstick
On your collar,’
Telling tales from
The betting shop or
You and Marge’s
Latest trip to Wimpy,
Brian, Moreen
Leighton,
Patrick the Irish
Queer next door.
Have some more
Cream slice,
Bread pudding,
You’ll buy four for
For me, ‘Only a paahnd
Fifty’, to take home.
Or pie and mash for sister.
YOu? No, no you
Don’t eat like
You used to,
In the caravan,
Round, happy,
Just the sun and
Slot machines and
Walks along
The sea, girls
On leads, so’s
We dont ‘draaan’.
Please remember,
We thank you
And love you like a
Gran.
Grand old Mare
