Pembroke Castle

We stood in the rain that day,
wind gusting, buffeting us close.
Two sisters, bellies full
and half full with child:
gortex coats stretching, not closing,
hoods drawn down, peaks dripping.
Mum, inappropriately dressed, as usual,
in fluffy white jacket with sparkles,
wool hat, no waterproof, no wellies.
Pop, flat cap topped, three-fleeced-zipped-in,
wrapped for the mountains again.

We stood in the rain that day,
huddled together:
not just for the photograph,
but for the fun of it, the warmth of it,
the great big silly grin of it,
high on the ramparts in a force six gale.


Memories of a family day out, recalled from a photograph.


Now you are here dear daughter
I remember my Granny even more.

Summer time
her hamlet cottage
sisters grown by
feathery grass fields
tree dangle caterpillars
tiptoe stream
and weighty encyclopaedia.
Gold trimmed lipstick
bedside teasmaid and
coral pink talc powder puff.
Delft coffee cup
crochet doily covered and
Clayderman ivories on tape.
Sweet cherry tomatoes
rainbow bell peppers in
Saharan heat greenhouse.
Caramel shortbread
still warm, hidden
in a worn tartan tin.

Inspired by mothers day