Rhubarb and Ginger Jam

My grandad made rhubarb and ginger jam
in a tiny kitchen overlooking
a busy intersection and
a tower of flats that my dad totted up
from the comfort of Grandad’s armchair;
his pipes lined up along the windowsill.
50 floors if I remember rightly.
That was my landmark for years on the way
to work, to a new house, to meet my future
husband, to visit parents. I never stopped,
but I’d look across the busy roads
if waiting at the lights and
see the window of the tiny kitchen gleaming
where my grandad used to make rhubarb and ginger jam.

Who is the serious man

Wrapped up inside a newspaper?

Outside, the sky is unbelievably blue

Moonface girl collects this memory

But who are you? 

~

To Glasgow moonface girl would fly

Through twilight in her parents’ car

The horizon low, grey and far

A tangle of orange lights can’t compare

With the magnificent moon’s solemn glare

~

Moonface girl collects memories

On a red sofa we siblings slept

When it arrived with Granny and Grandad

And all of their things as they wept

We were delirious with excitement

Granny hovered over as we snuggled and wriggled

If I should die before I wake, we giggled

Poor Granny sighed

~

Moonface girl collects memories

Usually hidden unheard at family gatherings

Her moonface in the curtains with the birds

Listening to Chopin or Danny Boy

Sing they cry

Half-serious, half-moon she sighs

They laugh and hug

The bonnie Dundee weaver appears

And the ruckus begins and then the tears

~

Moonface girl collects memories

Swinging on the branches with the birds in the curtains

Embarrassed English moon beams all over the place

She doesn’t know where to look

~

Moonface girl collects memories

Long goodbyes I-love-you-I-LOVE-YOU-sobs and sighs

Wet faces, wet kisses and hugs in the rain

Again and again

~

Mother clears away the tears

Dad dries up

Quiet

~

The wide-eyed moon and the girl exchange glances

And quietly they steal away and take their chances

The piano, the tears, the songs

The giggles, the sighs, the long goodbyes

The red sofa, the newspaper, the rain

The birds in the curtains, and the blame

And all of this grief for you

Father’s brother, Granny’s son

All this grief for you

And long-gone skies, unbelievably blue

(artwork: Man Reading Newspaper Artwork  from popartmachine.com )

Thanks to dVerse: Poetics and the Beautiful Sadness for the interesting post, prompt, and links to other poets.  I thought this poem written a few weeks ago might fit!