The colander

 

person holding a bible
Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

Mary came home to find Stan crying in his old chair
What’s the matter,baby, she asked gently?
I feel so stupid, he told her.I was in the kitchen getting a drink but the running water made my   bladder want to empty
Well, we do have a loo in the hall
I forgot that so I picked up an old pan and used that
That’s ok,dearest, she whispered
Then I realised, it was a  colander!
I am sorry,Mary,
Well, it’s nothing.Women are used to things like this.
Hi said Annie as she  ran in with  her pink cheeks glowing
I  have got a steam mop today and I’ve just cleaned your kitchen floor.I’d done mine earlier
That is very kind of you.We had a bit of a problem in there
Yes, the tomcat up the road seemed to have left his mark but it’s ok now
She smiled at Stan. who still looked nervous.
I’ll buy you a steam mop for Xmas.I think of it as a toy and I am  killing Roman soldiers with the steam or I have other little fantasies
So do I,Stan muttered
Why don’t we have a cup of tea?
Mary carried the tea in on a wooden tray
Mary, that’s my desk drawer.
Don’t tell me you were going to wee into this
No, I brought it down  to shake the dust out before I put my pens and paper back
Well, remember, chamber pots are never  made of wood.
Wow. how amazing Why  not ?
Because it is porous so stuff soaks into the very wood itself
Annie said, why do you need one when you have an ensuite plus  a loo in the hall
Maybe   it is my second childhood,Stan joked  merrily
Emile strolled in
Smokey and I have been in the woods.The kitchen seems very   clean
I’ve been trying my steam mop on it,Annie reported
Very nice, said Emile,I’d like a small one
Cats don’t mop floors, mewed Smokey
Maybe we will be the first
Just to make sure Dad is well I’d better ring 999
Stan is not your Dad and he does not want to see anyone
Why not?
He wet the floor
Humans suffer so.We mate with all and sundry, wet the  ground and eat the meat
when you forget to freeze it
Well, never mind.We do have a bit of fun
Have more,Emile mewed
And so say all of us

Fallen apples

Fallen apples cannot reverse  time
If they fell unnripe, that is their   doom
Broken churchbells can no longer chime

Nothing good comes  just by changing names
The dark sky is a portent of our   gloom
Fallen apples cannot reverse  time

The expert  hates  both metre and  these rhymes
The piano now demands to  be untuned
Broken bells  no longer want to chime

Wasps and ants will never become tame
Overhead the thunder bangs and fumes
Fallen apples cannot   turn back   time

In the zoo were vultures on short chains
For such creatures death can’t come too soon
Broken bells  no longer want to chime

Shall we  talk to others using Zoom
Shall we wear a mask, will love resume?
Fallen apples cannot reverse  time
Broken churchbells cannot try  to chime

 

 

What is life when   love  won’t come again?

What’s a handbag when we have no pen;
When we  have no paper and no ink?
What is life when we will curse  again

Even the fiercest lion needs his den
And every human being needs some links
What’s a handbag when we have no pen?

Should we let folk thump  us on the chin?
Should babes  be  taught to ponder  and to think
What is life when   love  won’t come again?

Do not fear to be an also ran
Learn to laugh and even how to wink
What’s a handbag when we have no man?

Life  is hard, life  wins the marathon
Do not  judge and don’t let worry win
We can’t be sure that love has truly  gone

Do not tend your scruples, that is sin
Look outside,  then burst  balloons with pins
What’s a handbag when we have  no  man
What is life, when will we write again?

 

 

 

 

 

Losing my identity, your wrath

I  have not forgotten grammar.I am trying to say it the wat we used wheb I was in  theNorth

 

 

Afraid of sinking sands and silent death
Losing my identity, your wrath
That is a place of beauty I could  die
As other people sauntered gaily by

I used to see great tigers in my dreams
I could not breathe and neither could I scream
I lay  there stiffly like a  stolen corpse
Waiting for a wooden cart and horse

The Tilley lamp  began to hiss and moan
As if aware of menaces unknown
All alone with flu I lay in bed
Daddy, can’t you come back in my head?

Dad and I  would chat, sat in the park
After  losing him, I  rarely spoke

 

Now I see why I didn’t speak until I had to to make money
But why give lectures on mathematics?
Mute: learn Calculus and dwell on infinity

 

 

 

 

 

Batteries

 

 

 

 

 

Drawing by Katherine

Doctor, my arm feels stiff
Compared to what?

Doctor I feel sad.
Weep

Doctor I saw a black shape  come into my house
Do you want to see a psychiatrist?
No,I prefer my shapes.

Doctor, where is my husband?
In a  bag in the dining roo
Gosh! I ought to bury  him

Doctor, my hair is too long
Too long for what?
A joke

Doctor I got a digital clock but it says 86 F
Will it die?
It’s not  alive
So why do the numbers change?
I   never thought of that…  it has batteries
I wish we could have new batteries.
Imagine if butterflies had batteries
I don’t wish to.

If eagles had batteries, who  would charge them?
They have no money

I am  hot.doctor
You temptress
Now even wjen I am  crippled
men  think I’m after one thing
Is  it pain relief?
Just distraction.
Try porn
Doctor!!

 

 

 

Give over

 

 

 

Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com

Doctor, my husband has left home
Whose home?

Doctor,I have lost the cat
Maybe the cat has lost you

Doctor, my sister is ill
I  don’t do distance healing

Doctor,I sent  a photo of my ulcer
Where is it?
In the computer.I imagine
Well, show   me the ulcer
I thought it was all virtual now
Except for the pain!I’ll give you a painkiller
Only one?

Doctor, I am lonely
What a coincidence, so am I!

Doctor I ate  some Maltesers
Cannibalism is a crime
No,I mean chocolate balls
I didn’t expect a lady to be so vulgar
But they sell them in Tesco’s
I just don’t believe it.
I’ll show you.
I didn’t know you were transexual
Neither did I.

Doctor can we eat Maltesers after Brexit?
Ask  the EU

Doctor, is Malta far away?
From where?

Doctor,I want to  go on holiday
Where to ?
Your house
Are you crazy?
Would I know?

Doctor, blood is running down my arm
That’s because of gravity
Can’t you stop it?

Doctor, my fingers go numb in bed
Whose bed?
My husband’s
But he’s dead
I ‘ll tell him when I get home
Are you sure he is your husband?
Since Hitler died they don’t tattoo numbers on us any more
You could have a micro-chip put in your finger
Will it cure the numbness?
No, but we’ll know where you are
And they call ME paranoid
Calm down
That’s what  the Japanese said after Hiroshima
I don’t believe you
Well, that makes no difference to the truth
Pontius Pilate  where are you/

In the desert grey

I walked across a desert grey and bleak
All alone, with nothing there to eat
I shuddered when I realised the truth
I was giving birth;I was refuse.

Cast out for some failing quite unknown
My baby was too small and I alone
A doctor with no face appeared and said
This baby died for he was never fed

He flung my baby  to the heap of dead
I lay in the dirt,  now red with blood
I  had to leave or I  would  die of grief
The will to live is stronger than a thief

I went to kiss my baby, then he smiled
He was still alive, my love,my child

The  wounds can be discerned but seldom seen

   Thinkings and poems   1 Minute

The agony of  loss will clot  in time
The anguish sharp destroys the human heart
The  wounds can be discerned but never found

As for us human beings, love profound
Predicts that one or other will depart
The agony of  loss will clot in time

As on our beds ,we wounded folk all lounge
Until a message comes  and we must start
The  wounds can be discerned but never seen

As life flows out like lyrics and their rhymes
As lizards from their hiding places dart
The agony of  loss will ease in time

At first the very cells each seem to scream
The eye seeks visions to protect the hearts
The  wounds can be discerned but never seen

How Helen may have overturned the cart
How skin of little children often smarts
The agony, the pain will wane  in time
The  wounds can be discerned but are now  tame

Loss is like a real and bloody wound

Loss is like a  real wound in the heart
From knife, from dagger,sword or  scimitar
When your own beloved must depart

Or hearts may split in two, may crack or smart
Listening to dear Cohen with guitar
Loss was like a  real wound in his heart

I felt  my wound would widen, blood might  squirt
Cover me in red,oh,mad, bizarre
When  my own beloved chose “Depart”

Sometimes when I walked I used to lurch
Once into the road ,between two cars
Loss is like a  real wound in the heart

I wandered through the graveyard, ancient church
Castigate me not ,peculiar
Like a bird  his soul sought for its perch

As far as  Mirth, as far as the North Star
Noone   knows the vastness nor would dare
Loss is like a  cut,a wound, oh heart
When your own beloved must depart

 

 

 

A  song  that has no words nor any tune

Your absence from our home is a  still  a wound 
A  bruise upon my heart, a  knock, a blow
 A  song  that has no words nor any tune
That hovers in my ear,is loth to go

Yet I am glad I helped you to let go
I would not wish that you were here alone
But when the lake of tears still overflows
I wish that I could reach you on my phone

I am not lonely,I am missing you
Your tenor voice, your loving touch and words
The distance when you from the world withdrew.
Seems to me,   few  voices I have heard.

Yet I accept all living creatures die
But why are widows not allowed to cry?

The first step

Attracted by the window and the light
I walked towards it, those were my  first steps
The memory of an act  creates insight

Oh,mother I can leave you,I can fight
Now I move and noone can me stop
Desirous of the window and the light

Implicit in the action is the flight
Growing is not smooth, it is abrupt
The memory of an act  creates insight

Yet somewhere other, there is greater might
That one day caused me angst, that made me trip
Humbled by the window and the light

After every day, there comes a night
Abjection is the cup that each must sip
The repeating of an act  creates insight

Children are  not injured when they slip
When they rise, they quickly can forget
Attracted by the window and the sight
We all must stand and walk but  in curved lines

 

 

Agnus Dei

At the end of the day,at this moment in time,all we can say is how did we get here
Nobody can deny, things are not what they seem, nor what they  may appear
We’ve been here before, you can’t flog a dead horse,take it as read
The leader in the Times, the origins of the war, the death of God
The atheist in the  room, take it from me,  the Church is dead
Does going to church make you Christian, does confessing sins make your morally superior?
Who was the Samaritan and why did he help?
I can’t deny that I  have seen the Light.I put it in myself
Why are  you not having an extension, what was your sentence?
Is there any justice in the world, and if so, where?
This is not the road to heaven but it was on the sign post, it’s hard to believe
 they would confuse us with the Nazis
Did the Romans know Jesus?
Why ask now?
We want the truth to come out
From where?

Baking in God’s oven

The weather’s gone bipolar, so have I
Let me go, I know now how to fly

I feel so hot I  am a human pie
Baking in God’ oven in the sky

Why don’t I  make myself a cup of tea?
I sweat so much I  never need a wee~

My television seems a  mite too small
And all those programmes  make me scream and wail

I  studied Hitler but I did not find
Where he left the track,derailed his mind

They talk of numbers  of the dead and gone
It’s just as sad when the number is just one

Every person is another whole
Don’t destroy the future of their world

We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls

We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn

As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?

In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land

The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?

The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease

We let the remnants out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear

It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
As we self defend with careful lies

There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
The sea was lapping gently  on our feet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

Facing North ,we saw the sun’s June beams
Then it crossed the sky, its death to meet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

The yellow gorse   is scented, spikes are green
Brilliant flowers in gardens,ordered,neat
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

In  this place our souls soon feel redeemed
With  herbs, with flowers, with perfume pungent, sweet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

If there were a heaven, it would be near
The images, the sea, the sky,oh, sweet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

We see the surface, not what’s underneath
We feel the breeze, the spirit’s  holy breath
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

 

Goodbye we say,goodbye,

Clematis-Gravetye-Beauty_20-1Lilium-African-Lady-2020

 

 

6 August 2015

Sometimes my hands curl up,
and other times,they open.
Then I feel the air;
My fingers relax.
I touch your hand;
uncurl it and press it to mine.
Palm on palm,it’s no secret
that palms connect to hearts.
In your face I see a hint of melancholy,
I feel it in my soul..
as if there was a secret connection..
thought how,I don’t know.
Somehow,touching, we create another soul,
Neither you nor I, but We……
Touching,need to be physical..
We know how a story can affect us that way.
What a gift to know we have touched someone…
In the heart.’s. most tender space.The place of love.
Both true and false,my palm is lonely.
Then I feel the caress of summer air..
To touch is to be touched
as one soul opens to another..
Vulnerable,human,loving,
Painful and illusory,like those dreams of childhood.
Now we go,first gripping, then loosening our hands.
Goodbye,we say,Goodbye

The rippling waves stretch out  like children’s hands

You are smiling on the pier above the sands
The rippling waves stretch out  like children’s hands
You look so strong I cannot comprehend
Your fatal illness and its grievous end
You were not a patient on dry land
You were living well  and ” feeling grand”
We crossed the road ; I  held   your cold thin hand
I suffered so much torment,would  I mend?
I saw a  fluid shape as dark it pranced
Through the open door  it swiftly danced
Slipped in with the wiles  of  Tudor kings
Hoping   they can  make it on the wing
I learned with grief , it came to take you  back
Across the river wide ,my love, my lack

Washing Day in Knittingham

blue body of water with orange thunder
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

After the unusual November sunshine, Mary was happy  to discover her  underwear was dry. She took it into the sitting  room to  fold  up, ready to go into the drawer.
Although, by nature, she was very untidy, she did try to keep a bit of order in her drawers.
As she sat musing, with the pile of knickers  and bras nearby, the door bell rang
.Quickly she pushed the heap  of lingerie under a large cushion and opened the door optimistically with a brave laugh and a rude cough
There stood the Vicar with a beaming  yet sultry smile, like a sun ray on Helvellyn in midwinter
Do come in. I’ll make some fresh Ceylon tea, she murmured politely
She carried in a tray of tea and cake and sat on the sofa, after placing the tray on a small table nearby.
Why are you here, Father? she said  anxiously as she sucked her thumb and bit her nails
That was what God said to Elijah on the mountain, he anwered shyly.Or mayhe it was Jeremiah
Well,I am not God but we all wonder now and then why we are here and think we should be somewhere else , like in bed with Leonard Cohen.
That never worries me, said the Vicar.I can’t marry a Jew, Leonard Cohen or whoever.
So if Jesus was here you would not let him marry your daughter? Even though  he was  the Son of the Most High?
Definitely not.He wasn’t a Christian.
And imagine what it would be like when he was never at home  helping with the chores, but was fishing in the Sea of Galilee all day.And feeding hungry people.Not to mention getting killed…..
But he must have been very loving, Mary muttered nervously
God loves those who love themselves, cried the Vicar evangelically.
Er, that’s a bit narcissistic,Mary told him .I’ve never heard anyone say it before.
Well we   ought to love ourselves  or why should anyone else love us?
For our love of them, our beauty, our minds, our  kindness, our humour, our cooking or our money.
Yet some a people are sadists and some are masochists.
Well, that is  unfortunate but, if they are willing, it seems acceptable  to me.I won’t criticise them if they enjoy it
Suddenly Annie, Mary’s neighbour,ran into the room  in her dark purple velvet trenchcoat and  shiny green vinyl  boots;they matched her eye shadow and contrasted well with her terracotta lipstick and matching earrings, like small saucers from which Emile might drink milk
Hi, she shouted.I’m here.
Where is that  lipstick from, Mary quizzed her pensively
It’s by Lambscombe of Wigan and  Ilkley. Annie revealed furtively
I didn’t know they made  lipstick,Mary answered.It’s an unusual colour Is it made from old bricks?
I don’t know, Annie cried petulantly.She   started to snivel and  felt under the cushion in case Mary had left a hanky or tissue there.
Her  hand reappeared clutching a pair of  bright blue  lace knickers
It was hard to decide who looked more embarrassed ,Mary or  the Vicar
What’s going on in here, Annie demanded though why should she have the right to know?
I’ve   never seen them before, the Vicar  told her manfully
Surely your wife must wear them, Annie said knowingly
My wife wears underpants.
Well, it takes all sorts,Mary mused.Is  your wife a man ?
I don’t know.We live a  life of  utter chastity.We have therefore had no children.We could have adopted I guess.
What a waste, Annie whispered.
You are a very charming and delightful person.~
I can’t believe  you are innocent.You persuaded Mary to take off her knickers so you could play Mummies and  Daddies but I came in at the wrong moment.
Mary fainted silently onto the rug
Emile mewed loudly and rang 999 on his Nokia1
In ran Dave, the fluid gendered,  transsexual and well dressed paramedic.
What’s wrong ?
Why  has Mary fainted and why are there knickers on the floor? Is this an orgy? Why have you called me?
The Vicar went bright red with embarrassment and shock.
No, it seems Mary keeps a pair of knickers near her in case she runs  out of tissuesDave made some  Ceylon tea in the bijou violet and emerald green kitchen .He used Mary’s art deco  mugs to serve it along with some chocolate  biscuits he found under the sink.
Mary  rose  up  from the carpet and asked where she was.
Still here,in the EU….until Scotland goes independent and Ireland gets more Troubles and how about Wales getting big idea?
Oh, for goodness sake, shut up.I am sick of Brexit cried Emile.
Where is my tea? Where are my sardines in olive oil?Where is my pudding?

If you’re grieving

If you’re grieving keep away from cliffs
Do not  believe Satan, do not leap
Keep away from gamblers and the swift

Don’t get  claustrophobia stuck  in lifts
If you’re feeling hungry, eat  roast meat
If you’re grieving keep away from cliffs

Keep away from whisky, don’t get pissed
Go to bed and dream, enjoy soft  sleep
Keep away from gamblers and the swift

When did you give anyone a kiss?
Why sit there alone, can no-one meet?
If you’re grieving keep away from cliffs

If you try to shoot yourself, you’ll miss
You will cause distress, your friends will weep
Keep away from gamblers and the swift

There’s always God, I know he is discreet
He hides in places no-one ever sweeps
If you’re grieving keep away from cliffs
Keep away from gamblers, never sniff

 

 

 

I’m not frightened of you anymore

I’ m not frightened of you anymore
I’ll tell you that I hope I did  my best
God, you made the world that we destroy

You want us to  make meaning, learn the laws
Life  for many is  a fearsome task
Yet I’ m not frightened of you anymore

Why  has Beirut  suffered, what’s death for?
The people wander, by  great wounds   undressed
God, you made the world,who can restore?

Thousands injured ,millions more distraught
Will we give them aid and make it fast?
I’ m not frightened of God anymore

As we age, our hearts and souls must mourn
Living as the present hurries past
God, you made the world,will  tears restore?

In the  startling Universe so  vast
The Play  is here and we must be the Cast
I’ m not frightened of you anymore
God, you made a world so full of tears

 

 

 

 

I’ll follow where love leads

I heard the thud our cat made on the stair
But when I looked there was no creature there
Can our longing make us hear strange sounds;
Delusions,wish-fulfilment, breaking bounds?

I heard the wrens sing by the kitchen door
At least there is no cat to  make them fewer
I want to make some tea but I feel stuck
I’ll fill the pan, while love my heart strings plucks

For aeons I feel I’m paralysed by grief
The caterpillars gnaw upon  green leaves
I judge myself incompetent,too  slow.
Yet would I judge another, wound with blows?

I  feel half-way between the real, the dream
In reverie I’ll follow where love leads

Love and blindness

Love and structure made  our life secure
Although outside our tent, the gales still blew
Now alone,I fear I can’t endure
Your loving presence made my life secure
Now I stand on air ,supportless,poor
Love and structure made  our life secure
Now I am afraid and pale my hue
Love and  blindness made us feel secure
I forgot ,outside the tent,  wild gales still  blew

A little about Dryden

 

 

Rosa-Morning-Mist-2020https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-dryden

Beware the fury of a patient man       John Dryden

 

EXTRACT:
“In 1665 the plague was so bad in London that Dryden had to rusticate himself and his wife at her family estate in Charlton, Wiltshire. There he wrote three excellent works: Of Dramatick Poesie: An Essay (1667), the first great sustained work in English dramatic theory; Secret-Love (1667), a tragicomedy; and Annus Mirabilis: The Year of Wonders, 1666 (1667). This “Historical Poem” celebrating English victories at sea during the Second Dutch War and Charles II’s conduct during the Great Fire of London won Dryden the poet laureateship in 1668.

Because it was published in 1667, Dryden’s heroic poem invites comparison with Milton’s great epic Paradise Lost, first published in its ten-book format that same year.  Milton’s epic—written by this radical Puritan secretary to Cromwell—looks back through its aristocratic mode to classical and medieval times. Dryden’s poem, despite its aristocratic elements of monarchism and heroic valor, its classical allusions and epic similes, looks forward through its bourgeois celebration of mercantile expansion, maritime dominance, and homely imagery of laboring citizens to the rule of a capitalist Britannia under a constitutional monarch.”

Michael McKeon has brilliantly demonstrated that the poem is essentially political propaganda designed to stifle domestic dissent by rallying the nation around the common causes of war abroad and disaster at home. Dryden mythologizes Charles II, his brother James, Duke of York, and the triumphant admirals and generals as classical and Christian heroes and even gods.

For the mad widow

Always eat breakfast in the awning
Don’t miss your midday sinner
You must eat protein  and  ballads
Do drink plenty of bold water
Do not walk on cliff tops wearing high wheels
Make sure to wear an opaque light-dress in case  the postman works
Put the landing flight off.
Go to bed when you feel  wired
If agitated, tie yourself to a chair for 2 hours.It’s cheaper than a hospital

Love flowed

All we had was the cooker and the bed
I bought some sheets and blankets up the road
The Coop had a  shop, it saved my head
All we had was the cooker and the bed
We  must have had some plates, yes, they were red
Indicating we were not well bred
Cutlery and mugs were gifts bestowed
All we had was much love and a bed
I  made a meal and after that we flowed

Now is lost

The face that was familiar  now is lost
You seem as far away  as is the moon
My heart has paid  for you the savage cost
The face that was so loved, by  now is lost
And my own inner being  is fear- tossed
Though  five  long, weary years have wandered past
I no longer  fear to meet my doom
The face that was familiar  now is lost
Love seems far away,  like a new moon

The beige life of Stan

cats-staring-3

Mary lifted her orange  cast iron cooking pot out of the oven.
“This pot is much too heavy ,”she informed her dear  old husband,Stan.
But what else can I use for my Beef in Beer and my Braised Beef with Ginger?
I can’t think, he replied imaginatively yet timidly  
But Mary had already seen  and loved a red cast aluminium casserole dish in  the Ironmongers online
You know, we’ve not bought a new pan for years, she cried thoughtlessly.
Well,I’ve managed alright, he murmured, we have two copper pans and three stainless steel ones and the pyrex glass ovenware
But I want something  fancy I can put on the table.I feel the urge to invite someone round
Emile was hiding by the pan rack, wondering what cast aluminium might be
I hope you won’t drop this pot on me, he mewed plaintively
Have I ever dropped the Le Creuset one on you.Don’t answer as if I had you would be dead
You are being very blunt today,Stan remarked politely yet pointedly
Oh, dear.I am sorry if I hurt you.I just recalled all the stews I used to make and inviting in anyone who happened to  walk by.Now we don’t ask people in,I liked it before… life was slower then
Well, if you want to get some  bright new pots or dishes I’m  not complaining.I know you bave back pain and you like colour.Get a colourful pot or two and we can give the  heavy ones away.A younger person will love them.
Why, asked ~Annie their neighbour who  had just got in through the larder window despite being  almost as obese as the PM
She was dressed in  a champagne   coloured, waisted. long padded jacket  with purple trousers and pink trainers with   coral soles which matched her lipstick from Cats Factor of Wigan and Darwen.
Her foundation cream was ivory beige from Eve St Torment of Paris,Southport and Glasgow.
You look pale,darling, Stan declared tenderly
Oh,damn and blast,I knew I should  have got medium beige.
What?
It’s my makeup.
You look nice with nothing on, he said  happily though tactlessly.
What about me,asked Mary faintly?
You always look stunning, he whispered.I am just flattering Annie as she looks depressed
No wonder with you as her   companion.She should get someone who is not married.
I tell her that, but i am old and I would be alone all day while you were teaching Babylonian Logic and  Solomon’s Temple  or maybe Wittgenstein and the need for Silence
I know I am tired when I get home, she said urbanely
Emile fell off the table and broke a bit off Stan’s chair
OMG ring 999, Stan screamed
Calm down, said Annie.I can  mend it with superglue
All these years calling out Dave and you could have fixed it.Why did you not say?
Well,I lack confidence, she muttered, except about clothes and lipstick
Emile had secretly phoned 999 and soon  the doorbell rang
In ran Dave, the talented and much loved paramedic.
What’s wrong, he cried gaily
Just the arm broke off this chair,Mary moaned.I feel faint
How would you  have managed in the War, he asked.
Breaking a chair should not
affect you.
I  forgot to take my felopidine, she informed him.Will I have a heart attack?
Go and get it now.No, missing one dose is ok but more than one puts you at risk
Stan looked at his  beautiful wife and her face like a mediaeval painting
You are so brave, Mary, living with those spasms.
What choice do I have ,she whispered? I submit to the will of God
I wish you’d submit to my will,Stan compained loudly  yet sensitively
I will, shouted Annie
Not  here,Mary said,At least have the decency to go  into the greenhouse
But people can see in, Annie muttered
I thought you might like that!
Well,I would not.I’ll come tomorrow she shouted, as she ran out and slammed the door
She’s upset; she went to Wigan for some makeup and she got the wrong shade of be=ge
How many shades of beige are there,asked Dave?
You should know,Stan cried.You wear make up sometimes
I always like more  information
Well it’s not fifty. as  that would cause confusion
And take up too much space on the  pharmacy counter.
Why  some of us  are called white  when we are just beige light or medium I do not know
And nor do all of us including those labelled as black
Life is not black and white except for the immature
Alas, many of us are.Very.