I went and got a few, new .small size dishes
The old ones are too big for only me
I weep as in the bowl I gently wash
The ones we used to use when we had tea.
Here’s a terracotta Spanish pan.
We filled to entertain our dearest friends.
Y0ur dish of onions,garlic,and spring lamb;
Bright tomatoes added to the blend.
Here’s a souffle dish for six or eight .
Cheese or lemon, you enjoyed them both.
And here are all the larger dinner plates.
To separate from these, I’m feeling loth.
I don’t know if I’ll cook for friends again
They’ve not cooked Jane Grigson in a while
Are they afraid I’ll steal their husband man?
And state their surreal reasons with a smile
In the guide for losers I was told
Prepare to lose some friends and then some more.
I don’t want their men so mild, unbold
I’ve closed the windows and I’ve locked the doors
I feel they compliment me as they think
I’m so alluring I can pull again.
But I have had enough of loveless links.
I don’t want any cast off ,needy men.
I dry the steel, the glass, and the old copper.
I dry the lids of each ;I muse on colour
What shall I conjure up for my last supper?
What gruesome healthy diet shall I follow?
I want to be with you one lost hour.
A cup of Earl Grey tea, a chance to talk.
But I accept that will be nevermore,
Like my hand in yours on our long walks
I didn’t know that you were dying
The doctors are afraid of saying.
I wish I were in your arms, just lying.
I’ve tired of churches and of praying.
I felt that tendon in your long left hand
You turned around and smiled so brightly.
Then the curtains of your death descend.
You slipped away so gently ; love you quietly.