On some Sundays
you went for high tea
with great Nan Seeley
and you sat around a big table
with bread and butter
and tomatoes and celery
in tall glass containers
and lettuce and bowls
of whelks and shrimps
and winkles and other
seafood and the big fruit cake
and white plates
and napkins and glasses
and a jug of water
and great uncle told
the tall tales or jokes
and gran said
not in front
of the little ones
o they’ll not understand
great uncle said
and off he’d reel
and you sat taking
the bread and butter
and slice of ham and tomato
and looked at great gran
on the settee with her shawl
and grey hair and looking
weary and tired
and eyes closed
and your mother said
eat up and don’t waste
do you want some winkles?
great aunt asked
(winkles) you remembered
what the other boys said
in junior school (are what boys
have in their trousers
and girls have clams
said one of the bigger boys
with a snigger seen that
fat girl in the lavatory) winkles?
great aunt asked again
no thank you
you said
such a well mannered boy
gran said
not like some these days
said great uncle
pinning out a winkle
with a pin
you ate the bread and butter
and ham and watched
your old man
with his thin moustache
sipping his tea
and holding a cheese
and watercress sandwich
and you saw great gran
with eyes closed
on the settee her head
to one side
granddad silent
like an undertaker
gazing at the table cloth
holding his cup
and saucer
sipping the tea
and you watched
great aunt breaking up
a shrimp pulling off
the head and tail
so I said to her
she said
there’s no smoke
without fire
and great uncle said
cross talking over her
there were these two sailors
and the girl with a lisp
and hush hush
gran said
not in front
of the young ones
and you wondered
what a girl did
with a lisp
and why the two sailors
knew her
and your old man
lit a cigarette
and there was a howl of laughter
as the two sailor
and girl with a lisp
caused guffaws
and even gran double over
and granddad said nothing
but sipped his tea
and you heard
the big grandfather clock
go tick tock tick tock
and the room smelt
of celery
and cigarette smoke
and still laughter
from the sailor’s joke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem