Dear Table by Jacqueline Mead
A woman full of love comes home.
On the large dining room table, she places her bag, a book and her house keys.
She adds the warmth of the sun, the sound of the sea, the wind whistling through the trees and the voice of her dad saying “Hi, it’s smee!”
She takes off her shoe and empties sand and seaweed, stubbed toes, marmite sandwiches and a surf board.
From her jacket pockets she adds a child’s dummy, a pocket hanky, a Frog and Toad.
On the table she places a wine glass, very gently and a bottle of fine red. A pizza of Jamaican Jerk chicken to keep her well-fed.
The table is large and there is room for more. She scoops a child’s drum from the floor and places it on top too.
The scrapping sound of a child’s chair. Also gets placed on top with such love and care.
Looking around for more items to include, she adds memories of her family, young and old. Stories which have yet to be written or indeed told.
An image of a young girl playing roly poly down the hill. A Queens Jubilee commemorative five-pound bill.
The table bears the weight well; it stands tall and upright. The woman she will sleep well tonight.
Thank you, table, for always being there. For the load you carry, your unwavering support and care.