Margaret

margaret

you live in my memories

made over early mornings

of half cut grapes in cornflakes,

fingertips stained raspberry

freshly picked, homegrown

sat on our own, side by side

the coconut windchimes

in the conservatory, talking

until the bottom of teacups.

i think about how you'd smile

from the summerhouse

as i'd run around the apple tree,

the breeze down at the beach

the old pier, donkey rides, 2p machines

buttons, threads and lace, collections

of clip on earrings, ceramic ducks

and butter tubs for tupperware.

i remember you in cornflower blue

and in the sound you used to make

at even the mention of chocolate,

as if it were a word you could taste.