22.12.11

Natures Rainbow Message

Poetry


Red and yellow, pink and green
What can it possibly mean?

A rainbow of colour
A treasured gift of sight
A wondrous arch of beauty
Filling hearts with pure delight

Purple and orange, and blue
What does it mean to you?

A message written in the sky
Of hope, or joy, or love
Would we look at it the same
If not canvassed from above!

Natures silent words, so loud
bathed in glorious painted hue
Reminding us to feel her magic
And sing along with nature too.


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

28.9.11

Too Sensitive

Poetry


They say you are too sensitive
Labelled from life’s start
Attempts to fool your mind
To harden a gentle heart

The pain you feel, of others
Tears you cry for human shame
It tears your soul to pieces
How can it ever be the same?

Forsaken barriers of protection
For the sake of empathy
Vulnerable and defenceless
Like a dove upon a stormy sea

Because you cannot, but love
Dry a tear stained face
Mend a broken spirit
Help others find their place

You hear it, not from words
Nor see it, with human sight
It comes to you, in feelings
An intangible, invisible light

Craving peace and well-being
The essence of the good in all
To keep you nourished, strong
So you can give – yet more…

You’re an angel sent from above
To bring hope to humankind
You are not - too sensitive
You are a precious friend of mine!


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

22.7.11

Practical Me!

Poetry


The room is dark and gloomy
It’s quiet and lonely here
If it weren’t for occasional light
I’d probably be in fear

All around stand shoes and fancy boots
Though the slippers must be the best
They get chosen nearly every time
Returned only for an overnight rest

I remember dimly, a time past
When I lived in a place of light
There were people coming and going
It was such an exciting sight

I stood in a line with the others
Even sometimes held for awhile
People remarked on my strength
Although few liked my shape or style

When I arrived in my new home
I thought I would have so much to see
But after I was introduced to the others
There seemed no more time for me

I hear the wardrobe door opening
Once more I prepare to be ignored
With surprise, I find I’m lifted out
At last – it’s my turn to explore

The rain has been falling hard
The ground is as wet as can be
Slippers, and shoes, so comfy and fine
Could never replace - practical me!


© Copyright Jan-Reid Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

20.6.11

Hear It With Your Heart

Poetry


The quest ensues
Rule of nature, life
Under valued and thwarted by mankind
Twisted to self preserve
Hear it clearly - with your heart!


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

17.5.11

Imagine, For One Moment

Poetry

Imagine…
For one moment
If perfection reigned supreme
The evidence of reality
Transformed into the dream

Health and well-being
The only way of life
Happiness everywhere
No hint of war or strife

Perpetual fun and laughter
Love and kindness in every breath
Would you really value life more?
Could you possibly value life – less?

If there were no way of knowing
What it is to cry with tears of pain
And to feel the joy thereafter
When healing manifests again

A utopian existence
Perfect peace and contentment for all
Would life be as rich, in essence
Or become meaningless and poor

It’s impossible to know, heat
Without experiencing, cold
The mysterious challenges of life remain
Testing how it will all unfold

Would a flower look so beautiful
Its fragrance smell as sweet
If it didn’t labour through a chill
And survive a wondrous feat

Would a friend mean as much to you
If they’ve never held your hand
When you’ve needed a shoulder to cry on
And someone to understand

The scheme of life, so complex
Yet the message simple and true
The extremes of life, good and bad
Make life meaningful – for you!


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

2.5.11

The Sun Came Out Today

Poetry


The sun came out today
Though the skies were grey
And I was feeling rather blue
In an strange kind of way

It was a delightful surprise
It turned my day around
From feeling it was lost
To feeling it was found

It only took an instant
But the effect lasted long
Like the notes of music
Transformed into song

Like the flame of a fire
On a cold winters night
Or a gentle, tender touch
After a frightening sight

Yes – the sun came out
Though the skies stayed grey
Shining through - kind words
That a friend sent my way


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

1.5.11

Australians Divided

Poetry


Australians can be a divided lot
When it comes to important things
The royal wedding was being relayed
But football is what Friday night brings

The royal fans stood their ground
The television station even complied
They weren’t going to be held responsible
For a nations divide

The football was delayed an hour
While royal fans enjoyed the view
Of the much anticipated wedding
And Wills and Kate, saying – I do! (I will)

The station took control soon after
‘We leave the royal wedding now,
The football’s about to start’
The walk down the aisle, is not an important part?

Compromise is a wonderful thing
Although at times, seemingly - unfair
Friday football is broadcast nearly every week
The royal wedding a ‘once in a lifetime’ affair!


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

Patriotic Duty

Poetry

Patriotic duty
Destination, an ocean far
For family and country
A young man follows a distant star

His homeland fades before his eyes
The ocean beckons wide and vast
Apprehension and uncertainty
Carelessly tossed into the past

For no amount of training
Could ever prepare his mind
For the horrors he will encounter
Or the courage he will find

The first Great War to end war
Is how it was said to be
Red poppies now held tightly
In remembrance and history

Drenched to the bone, frozen by ice
Bullets flying past his head
He sees his mates bravely fall
A young digger, green of bloodshed

Advance, they shout, and like a shot
He engages with courage and steel
Bullets, bayonets, bombs, gas masks
Is any of this truly – real?

No time to think as the earth shakes
And the mines explode all around
Heard thousands of miles away
That landscape never again, found

Finally the victory cry erupts
And the digger prays a silent prayer
But, for the grace of God
His corpse would be lying there

This war of vivid memories
Forever cruelly etched into his mind
A robber of youth and vitality
True peace never again to find


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

13.4.11

The Wonders of Home

Poetry


I travel the world every day
Marvelling at wonders from afar
The pure whiteness of the Antarctica
Endless red dunes of Africa
*
Mesmerised by Aurora Borealis
Decorating the northern skies
The crystal caves of Bermuda
Pure and intriguing in disguise
*
I see them from my computer
Without leaving my chair
I sometimes think how wonderful
It would be, to be there
*
But these places are far away
And travel would be a chore
My beloved country firmly holds me
Within her beautiful shores
*
And then I take a moment
To consider my home so dear
Of all the wonders she holds
Which before were not so clear
*
The Snowy Mountains beaming
When winter firmly sets hold
The grandeur of the Big Rock
In the deserts of gleaming gold
*
The Aurora Australis, twin
Gracing the clear moonlit heights
The crystal caves at Atherton
Claiming her Amethyst delights
*
So many wonders close by
To nourish the soul and heart
So often we dream of far away
When in our backyard, we should start

***




© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

1.4.11

Henry - Number 2

Poetry


Our neighbours asked us to pet sit
It wouldn’t take much work at all
A little yellow canary named Henry
Was brought through our front door
*
Charming us from his pretty white cage
He serenaded us with the purest of tunes
And danced with flourish along his perch
As if in a contest with no time to lose
*
Such a delightful and enjoyable guest
This bird of vibrant sunshine gold
Winning our hearts from the very start
So tiny and delicate, but oh so bold
*
Our neighbourly deed complete
Henry’s joyful visit came to an end
Although instead of us doing a favour
We found we had made, a sweet new friend
*
Not to be disheartened by his absence
Hubby came up with a plan to pursue
He would tinker around in his shed
He would create – Henry, number 2
*
The result was certainly not expected
And not a replica of the Henry, as thought
Now standing as a guard in our hallway
Our Henry 2 – a life sized stork!


***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

18.3.11

There Is Always Hope

Poetry


Tears to cleanse and heal the pain
Hearts to live and sing again
Everyone from near and far
Rests their wishes upon a star
Earth so beautiful and unique

Insight, a gift many wise-men seek
Solutions sought, seldom found

Always, life with a survival crown
Love that’s found by giving away
We waste our planet every day
Answers confused by complexity
Yes, to live, love and let be
Sorry to not apologise, true

Home, a haven to me and you
One is all it takes to start the flow
Peace is what we all long to know
Evermore, in the hoping for.

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

Bird Mail

Poetry


A little Willy-Wag-Tail bird
Came to visit a few weeks ago
It hopped around the garden
And put on quite a splendid show

Every day, I welcomed it
Watching it wag its tail with glee
It made me feel happy inside
This bird coming to visit me

But then a friend informed me
In recounting this visit so sweet
That a visiting Willy-Wag-Tail
Brings bad news, you’ll soon greet

I scoffed, and said – no way!
Do not jinx my mind to think so
It’s only if I believed it true
That’s how it’s supposed to go

Too late – bad news appeared
Not once, but twice and more
Even though I had not believed
And sorrow did not look for

Bad news no longer has a chance
To come our way to stay
When noticed arriving, it receives
A blast away with the hose spray.

***

If only it were that simple! J


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

3.3.11

Tears of Reflection

Poetry


Old and wise
Proudly you stand
A portrait of perseverance
And timelessness

Thirsty in drought
Chilled with snowy falls
Swaying in compliance
As gales bend growing limbs

Seasons pass
The cycles of life
Steadfast, resilient, strong
Patiently you watch – and wait.

They come.
Burning, mutilating
Blinded by needs and wants
For the taking

Mindless sacrilege
Devoid of care
So much pain
For so little gain

Land cleared
Raped and pillaged
Till bareness prevails
Nature screamed and wailed

Unheard, unnoticed
Where once you stood so grand
Emptiness, nothingness
Years of perfection
Tears of reflection

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

26.2.11

Memories Brought Her Here!

Prose



She sits. Postcard images of golden sand, and white tipped waves of iridescent blue-green lay before her. Pale blue sky speckled with white cotton candy clouds, and the afternoon glow of peace permeates the air around everything and everyone – but her.

Memories brought her here. And memories are now walking along the sand, as she watches a young bare-footed couple, hand in hand, navigating the sea shore in a gentle stroll. Memories are what haunt her now, as mother and father, son and daughter, run, giggle and squeal at the waters edge. Memories are what tug at her heart, and she wishes she could – forget.

She closes her eyes and takes deep breathes, feeling and smelling the salty breeze as it whispers past. She listens intently to the sea with its rhythmic song, and it anoints her soul like invisible balm. Her mind quietened now, she carries herself as far away from her heart as she can bear. What else is there to do?

She opens her eyes and looks to the rocks, scattered with tiny shells of pink, coral and black, and wonders if perhaps life, like nature, is filled with too much bounty and beauty. You never really appreciate what you have until it is no longer there, they say. ‘They’, were right, she thinks. What if we were never able to have – so much? Would it make life, easier?

And then she remembers – and smiles. Perhaps memories are not so bad, after all.


***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

25.2.11

The Moment

Poetry


The moment is
As the moment lasts
And casts its wings
From the morning past

The moment gone is not re-pass
The glory of the ascending task

To open up your heart and, see
What there is for you to be

For the moment cannot well define
The infinite glory of the windows eye

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

12.2.11

Mice Warning

Poetry


There are mice in the house.
There are mice near and far.
But the latest news is perplexing;
about a mouse in my sisters car.

I’m not quite sure how I feel,
although I did for a moment, smile.
Should I fell sorry for the mouse,
or console my sister, awhile?

It would be rather daunting,
not knowing what it will do.
It could run across your foot,
or the car wires, decide to chew.

There is a trap neatly placed
underneath the front seat.
Place your fingers there
and pain you’ll surely greet.

The car door is now left open
in the hope it will escape.
But determined, it stays within;
its fate, it will not abate.

Perhaps it was a worthy quest,
to enjoy the thrill of a ride.
Although an unwelcome passenger
destined to continually hide.

So although I see no happy end
for this mouse in its car home;
let it be a warning
for mice everywhere, that roam.

***

© Copyright J M Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

10.2.11

Time Tells

Poetry


Broken promises,
twisted wreck.
Somehow, somewhere
it all began
on raw hope.
A way in, a way out…

Go with the flow;
wishful thinking?
Too late!
Caught in the net.
Nowhere to go,
but in your head.

Perfect creations,
from imperfect places
in the midst of strife.
Roller coaster of life.
The clock ticks,
but, stops!

Time no longer tells
- it screams!
We all know,
life is precious
for the taking;
giving is – sacrifice!

Quiet acceptance,
voiceless love;
a myriad of emotions
fighting for place.
It will all make sense
- one day!

***

© Copyright J M Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

20.1.11

Echoes Of The Dreaming

Poetry


A tribute to the indigenous people of Australia 
& an expression of my love for my country as a sixth generation Australian.


I love a wondrous country
surrounded by her sea
God’s centre of the land
in peace and harmony

Snowy mountain peaks
and sweeping plains beyond
Echos of the dreaming
early kookaburra’s song

Hidden sparkling rivers
ageless trees of ghostly gum
My land, my home serene
caressed by glorious sun

***



© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

17.1.11

Misty - Our Friend

Poetry


It was many many years ago
that our friend came to stay.
She jumped over the back fence
and charmed us that very day.

She was patient, kind and caring
and soothed my daughters’ heart.
We knew that it was heaven sent
right from the start – or did we?

The gold fish went missing.
The neighbours were in uproar;
their dogs were being beaten up.
What were fences meant for?

My visitors were anxious
if they looked her in the eye.
She became well known
for letting a right hook fly.

The dead pigeons were left
where they couldn’t be missed.
Scolding didn’t help at all
the response was a deadly - hiss!

She stayed for several years
and then one day – she left.
We thought we would be glad,
but instead we were quite bereft.

By now you know she was a cat
and - Misty was her name.
Despite all the angst she caused,
we still miss her - just the same!

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

8.1.11

The Ant and The Butterfly

Children's Picture Book



James went to visit his Grandpa one day
Into the garden they went, where James could play

While Grandpa bent and pulled the weeds
James watched the butterflies dance in the breeze

He studied an ant darting around on the ground
and was amazed at what he found

‘Grandpa, would you rather be an ant or a butterfly?’
Grandpa looked up, with a glint in his eye

‘I know a story you might like to hear’
‘Come sit on my knee and lend me your ear’

One day a butterfly was flying around
She noticed an ant scurrying around on the ground

Studying his movements all through the day
she was so impressed, she heard herself say

‘I wish I could be an ant, so small, yet strong
I could build impressive structures all day long

Meanwhile the ant had been watching the butterfly
He watched her graceful movements out of the corner of his eye

‘I wish I could be a butterfly so attractive and carefree
I would fly around all day - there would be so much to see

The Nature Queen shook her head in dismay
but waved her magic wand granting their wishes for a day

As the sun started its decent and the day drew to a close
The Nature Queen arrived with a question to pose

‘Miss Butterfly, Mr Ant – tell me, if you will
Would you like to remain as you were today, still?’

Miss Butterfly looked up to the coloured sky
and responded with a heartfelt sigh

‘For all the ants strength and agility,
I’d rather be there, in the air - I'd rather feel free

The ant looked longingly at the scene below
And was eager for The Nature Queen to know

‘For all the butterflys floating grace and freedom of care
I’d rather have my feet on the ground - I'd rather be there.’

The Nature Queen nodded smilingly at the two
And waved her magic wand, without ado

‘Nature has its reasons,’ I'm sure you now see
We are the way we're meant to be

‘So, tell me James’, said Grandpa, with a twinkle in his eye
‘Which would you rather be – an ant or a butterfly?’

‘Grandpa !’ admonished James, as he jumped off Grandpa’s knee
‘Of course – I’m glad I'm - ME!’


© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

7.1.11

Morris

Creative Writing - Children's Picture Book


Morris is a special bear.
He doesn't say much, but you know he is there.


If you need someone to cuddle he can take the biggest squeeze.
And he doesn't even mind if you forget to say please.


He'll rest quietly in your room all day.
But he will always join in if you want to play.


He loves to play hide-'n-seek.
You might even find him under your seat.


He'll smile as he watches you draw, read and run.
It makes him happy to see you have fun.


No matter what you tell him - it's a secret that you share.
You can tell him anything you like - he's a secret-keeping bear.


He snuggles up to you as you drift off to sleep.
But he always knows if you try to take a peek.


And when you float away to the land of dreams - it's good to know,
Morris will hold your hand - everywhere you go.

***
© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

A Traitorous Friend

Poetry


It’s difficult to know how it happens
And it’s never easy to remember, when.
It creeps up slowly and silently
And becomes a traitorous, best friend.

It confuses the thinking process
For thoughts become a tangled mess.
It denies the heart from feeling
For a heart can love no - less.

It makes for an excuse to give up
Concealing anything to look forward to.
Everything means – nothing
And nothing is the only thing, true.

Depleted of energy to fight
Void of the willingness to try
Quiet acceptance of life as it is
Even the willingness, to die.

Dark and sad and lonely
And yet numbingly, deceitfully, safe.
It is a thief of heart, mind and soul,
A destroyer of love, hope and faith.

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

6.1.11

A Once Tranquil Mind

Poetry


Ideas flood a once tranquil mind.

There is no where to go,
except with the flow.

Days and nights of writing;
fingers aching from overuse.

There is no excuse.

Words spill forth, forming sentences, paragraphs,
until at last;
completion arrives.

But to what end?

Without a friend
to read and absorb the creation from your mind,
which will now bind your thoughts together.

And they will find;
ideas flood a once tranquil mind.



*** 

© Copyright Jsn Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

Friday Night Fun and Games

Poetry


It’s Friday night in Aussie land,
and while the young ones part-tay;
we of the older generation,
have fun our own way.

Hubby is in the next room,
sorting out the football refs;
because it’s Friday Night Football here,
and the TV has no rest.

I’m enjoying writing this poem,
putting together words that flow;
while hubby is erupting with words,
of ‘forward pass’ and ‘go…go...!’

I know he’s having fun,
even though you may wonder;
because he gets up with a groan,
as the team he’s following - blunder.

It’s not his teams fault!
In fact, without a word of a lie;
it’s those b....y refs, of course;
they’ve ‘got it in’ for his side.

So, when the game is over,
and he pokes his head inside the door;
I’ll look up pretending not to know
who claimed the bigger score.

***

© Copyright J M Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

5.1.11

I Was There

Poetry


You did not know
I was there when you stood under the old maple tree,
yearning for what was beyond the distant blue tinged hills,
tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked, 
your heart aching for your mothers arms.
I was there.

You did not know
I was there while you waited to be called,
resigned in your mind,
defeated in your heart.
The life inside of you to be destroyed
even before it had begun.
I was there.

You did not know
I was there as he looked beseechingly into your eyes
and denounced the accusations of infidelity,
while you neared your first born child’s first breath.
Vulnerable and trusting
oh, so trusting – in vain.
I was there.

You did not know
I was there during all those years of sleepless nights
while he tried to drown his sorrows.
Long nights of fear and worry,
protecting your little ones
from what they should not hear or see.
I was there.

You did not know
I was there when you could take no more.
Gathering up your children
and striding out the door, with dignity.
The uncertainty ahead as vivid
as a winding track with an obscured ending.
I was there.

You did not know
I was there when you wished upon a star
with the  faith of an angel
despite the deeds of man.
True love and peace coming to you - at last.
I, your guardian angel, celebrating.
I will always be there!

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

I Need to Write a Shopping List!

Poetry


I need to write a shopping list;
I'm always forgetting 'this' or 'that'.
If I write down what I can think of,
by shopping time I'll have it down pat.

I won't need to rack my brain with a frown;
I'll have more time to peruse.
I will get better value overall,
because I'll have the time to choose.

Where is that pen?
Who eats these things?
I thought of something.
Oh bother - the phone rings.

This marker pen will do.
Oh dear - the writing's gone through,
and there's no cleaner left;
I must write that down too.

Aha - I've found my daughters crayon.
Now what do I need?
Oh - someone's knocking at the door;
'Just a minute!' - I plead.

Oh joy - the delivery man wanted me to sign.
I wasn't being dishonest there;
I just needed to borrow his pen for a while.
I'm sure he has a spare.

Now - nothing will deter me;
I have a task I need to do.
What do I need?
Let's start with 'packets of pens' - times two.

Why won't this pen work!
It's running out of ink.
I might be able to write a few items down;
I'll remember the others - I think.

Relief - I can read the indentations on the paper;
I've succeeded in this quest of mine.
Now I'm all prepared,
but I'm running out of time.

I jump in the car and hurtle away,
and with a new thought, I utter a moan.
I remember the one thing I wish I hadn't;
I've left the shopping list at home!

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

Gunna

Poetry


Gunna was in interesting fella
he always had a yarn to tell

When others were at a loss for words
Gunna's words kept you under a spell

He had the most grandiose dreams
to obtain wealth and fame

Others may have tried and failed
but he would succeed all the same

He would be thinking and planning
from day break to sun set

And then he would elaborately explain
how it was all a sure bet

His ideas were flawless
and his enthusiasm sound

But with all the best at heart
here is what I found

Gunna spent so much time
talking about what he was going to do

That he forgot something important
in making his dreams come true

He had his thoughts in alignment
he had his words intact

But to actually achieve success
- he needed to act.

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

4.1.11

Alone At Last

Poetry


Alone at last, thirty years past
it seems like yesterday somehow
You encourage me from the corner
though I still keep my vow

Our love affair began so young
at first fumbling and raw
growing with anticipation
and the need to explore

It soon became apparent
we possessed a natural flow
but it was ruined by expectation
from those - in the know

They wanted us to seal our union
it would bring joy to many more
and consume my life completely
so I headed out the door

Yet now, so surreal
I still feel the connection we did share
After all this time, can it be
has it changed, and do I dare?

As I run my fingers along the keyboard
past hurts begin to mend
joy, release and comfort once more
my beloved piano, my long lost friend.

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

2.1.11

Love

Poetry


Love is the flower that blooms eternally,
from the seed of hope, nurtured by faith!

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.

1.1.11

Dining Dilemma

Short Story


'Jim asked me to call 'round after work, so I'll be home late,' Peter stated as he brushed Carol's cheek with a swift kiss. Carol really liked Peter’s brother but lately every time Peter mentioned his name it made her feel a bit glum.

'Uh-huh,' Carol answered tiredly as the front door slammed and the battered blue Ford ute quickly roared to life and hurtled down the street, signaling Peter was on his way to work.

Carol drained the remainder of her coffee, then forced herself to stand up, wondering why the caffeine still hadn't kicked in and why she was feeling so tired.  After all, the sun was shining outside already and the birds were chirping contentedly in the garden.  Usually this was enough for Carol to feel quite content and full of energy.

'Good morning Jenny.' Carol greeted her eldest daughter, purposefully pretending cheerfulness as Jenny breezed into the kitchen, dressed, preened and ready to get on with her day.

I wish I could feel like Jenny looks, mused Carol as she watched her daughter's ritual of pouring Lite White milk into her bowl of museli.

'You'd better wake Tommy, Mum - he's still dead to the world.'

Carol wondered what Tommy would do without his big sister to help him get through each day.  She smiled to herself as she threw a reflective look at Jenny and headed down the hall to drag her fourteen year old son, out of the land of dreams and into the land of morning.

'Bye Mum,' Jenny yelled from the front door half an hour later.

Tommy grabbed his toast and jam, ramming it into his mouth while juggling his lunch box and backpack; tearing out the door after her.

'Bye Jenny - Tommy, did you get your Science Proj...' Carol was cut off mid sentence by the slamming of the front door, bewildered that Tommy even shut the door in the first place.  Carol cleared the table methodically and removed the green linen table cloth that was becoming worn around the edges.  Glancing at the clock, she sat down dejectedly and ran a loving hand over the table, feeling the smoothness interrupted by grooves and marks that she had felt countless times before.

'So like my children,' she announced to the table.  'So smooth in places and yet rough in other ways - but so special because of it.'

And then it dawned on her.  She wasn't tired.  She was mourning.  Mourning for her table, an integral part of her family, that would soon be gone. 

Peter had suggested they sell the table as they had been left a lovely antique one by his Great Aunt Lucy, in her will.  They didn't need or have room for two tables.


Carol placed her index finger in the hole closest to her and memories came flooding back to her, as if it were yesterday.  Her four-year-old son sat at the table, hammering a wooden peg into the table top with his new hammer set.

'Look Mummy, I'm a carpbender.'

Carol's hand moved slowly to the long scratch, an arm's length away.  This time, Jenny's tear filled eyes beseeched her as she had thrown her skates on the table and realized what she had done.

Carol jumped up.  Enough of that!  It's time to be practical, she admonished herself.  There is no room for this table any more.

Later that day, Peter arrived home to find Carol in the garden, mercilessly yanking weeds from their presumed life-time habitat. 

'I'm glad I'm not one of them,' he surprised Carol with a cuddle from behind.

'Well, when it's time to go - you may as well go as quickly as possible, I guess,' Carol mused, unable to rise to a congenial banter.  'So, we had better start thinking about advertising our table, don't you agree?' continued Carol, trying to be businesslike, to hide her emotions.

'Well, we could do that,' Peter replied with a twinkle in his eye.  'But, then we'd have to learn to eat standing at the kitchen counter.'

Peter now had Carol's undivided, confused, attention.

'You know how I've just been at Jim's?' Peter attempted to explain.

Carol nodded, impatiently. 

'Well...' Peter continued, slowly, much to Carol's annoyance.  'He took almost an hour to get 'round to asking me if we would do an exchange on what Great Aunt Lucy left us.  It seems that Julie has this huge bookcase that she just can't part with and doesn't need the little one that Great Aunt Lucy left her.  But, she could really use that big old dining table.

Carol could not conceal the smile that spread across her face.

'So,' Peter continued, 'after hearing you sleep talking last night about tables, mumbling about memories and remembering how many good meals I have eaten from our table all these years; Well anyway, I think Great Aunt Lucy would understand - don't you?'

***

© Copyright Jan Reid-Lennox. All Rights Reserved.