My husband was the first child, and only one for many years, of his parents.When we got married they used to come to stay.I think it was my choice of menu  that was a bit of a problem.I was unused to making the more sophisticated type of recipes.We used bought jellies at home and Carnation milk.
But they were very brave.After I made a curry they ate it with no fuss and then said it was the first time they ever ate rice not in a pudding.Then when I  used some Instant Whip to make a dessert, his dad called out:
I’ve never seen a green pudding before.[Maybe it was lime flavoured.]
Then his Mam was like,
Shut up, Ron.Stop passing remarks.
She was always correcting him,
So then he laughed and asked for a cup of tea.No doubt I had the wrong sort!
After that we had to play games as we had no TV or we went for a drive later when we got an old car.Going for a drive was quite popular then as nobody was used to having a car.
My Mam in law could be cruel in obeying social niceties..Before his Dad died we took a week off and drove them all over Dad’s favourite places.On the way back from Richmond he wanted to pee.He was very frail and ill and she told him to wait so I then told my husband to drive to a village with a public convenience. [I have a weak bladder so I knew]
We took him to Whitby but he stayed in the car.I recall it was very misty.I stayed with him while   Mam and my husband went for a walk by  on the beach.That was her favourite thing, walking on the shore whereas Dad preferred the dales and moors.
Now to think I am the only one left.Nobody to eat my cordon bleu apple mousse or beef in ale.I think I’ll be going back to that green pudding.Instant Whip sounds like Fifty Shades of Grey.
In a hurry? Give him/her an Instant Whip…I don’t like that,our Kath.No me neither.
It was a more innocent time though cruelty was common.

I feel your presence though you never speak
In your last three hours, I held your hand
Your mind  endured with will  its  final task
To reach the entrance to that “Promised Land”

But now I sense you  in these dingy rooms
I cannot touch you though, it makes me sad
I cannot hear you speak or  hear  you  sing
Nor smell the honey with which you were clad

I  wept when looking for your old cartoons
And came down here to get a break
They seemed   most you of all the books you had
I have no letters nor any sort of sake

Where do I go now, I ask  your ghost
There is no answer, yet I feel love close.

I’d  like some new hair for Xmas
What I have got is too sparse
It covers my head
But not  that of my bed
I think I shall  need  a new purse.

My husband was good  with his visage
He looked like a man from the moon
He sang in the bath
Unless it was wrath
That made him change his own tunes

His skin was like rubber but thinner
It was stronger than mine is by far
I am so sensitive,
Please do not mention it
Or the police may think I’m bizarre.

I went into the best cafe in town
And when therein I let myself sit down.
I ordered a large and precious drink
Made from coffee and elastic  ink.

I sipped and gazed at all the gadding crowd
Speaking  tongues  like angels well endowed
Clutching phablets showing films and fun
They walk into the lamp posts now and then.

I  gave the waitress  my  last £5 note
On which some ancient wording was once wrote
She threw it down and said, it’s out of date
The plastic ones are all we now can take

I had only a bus pass in my purse
Now I’m in jail and writing worser verse.

 

PS the errors in grammar are deliberate!

---

Shall I compare a  kitchen knife to thee?
Thy cut is sharper than best Viner’s steel
Thy tongue is longer than  the roots of  trees
Thou serpent,  get thee to my heel.

Thy cold remarks, thou preferst thy cat to me
And I gave thee tender love both day and night
A fool , an idiot would love  better than thee
So get thee hence, be distant from my sight.

Boastful of thy organ’s latent  powers
Thou wished to found a noble dynasty
Aladdin’s lamp, when rubbed, did glow for hours
The same cannot be said, alas, of thee!

A stronger  man would  be less arrogant
Those who do beat those who find they can’t